f 


•I 


I 


" 


-:  T.;  •:  c 


POLICE  !!! 


-c 

I 


POLICE!!! 


BY 

ROBERT  W.  CHAMBERS 


ILLUSTRATED  BY 

HENRY   HUTT 


NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 

D.   APPLETON  AND  COMPANY 

1915 


COPYRIGHT,  1915,  BY 
ROBERT  W.  CHAMBERS 

Copyright,  1915,  by  International  Magazine  Company 


Published  in  the  United  States  of  America 


P6 
115 


TO 

LOUISE  JOCELYN 

All  the  pretty  things  you  say, 
All  the  pretty  things  you  do 

In  your  own  delightful  way 
Make  me  fall  in  love  with  you, 

Turning  Autumn  into  May. 

Every  day  is  twice  as  gay 
Just  because  of  you,  Louise! 

Which  is  going  some,  you  say? 

In  my  dull,  pedantic  way 

I  am  fashioning  my  lay 
Just  because  I  want  to  please. 

Just  because  the  things  you  say, 
Just  because  the  things  you  do 
In  your  clever,  charming  way 

Make  me  fall  in  love  with  you. 
That  is  all,  my  dear,  to-day. 

R.  W.  C. 
Christmas,  1915. 


913825 


FOREWORD 

Give  me  no  gold  nor  palaces 
Nor  quarts  of  gems  in  chalices 
Nor  mention  me  in  Who  is  Who 
I'd  rather  roam  abroad  with  you 
Investigating  sky  and  land, 
Volcanoes,  lakes,  and  glacial  sand 
I'd  rather  climb  with  all  my  legs 
To  find  a  nest  of  speckled  eggs, 
Or  watch  the  spotted  spider  spin 
Or  see  a  serpent  shed  its  skin! 
Give  me  no  star-and-garter  blue! 
I'd  rather  roam  around  with  you. 

Flatten  me  not  with  flattery ! 
Walk  with  me  to  the  Battery, 
And  see  in  glassy  tanks  the  seals, 
The  sturgeons,  flounders,  smelt  and  eels 
vii 


Foreword 


Disport  themselves  in  ichthyic  curves — 
And  when  it  gets  upon  our  nerves 
Then,  while  our  wabbling  taxi  honks 
I'll  tell  you  all  about  the  Bronx, 
Where  captive  wild  things  mope  and  stare 
Through  grills  of  steel  that  bar  each  lair 
Doomed  to  imprisonment  for  life — 
And  you  may  go  and  take  your  wife. 

Come  to  the  Park1  with,  me ; 

I'll  show  you  crass  stupidity 

Which  sentences  the  hawk  and  fox 

To  inactivity,  and  locks 

The  door  of  freedom  on  the  lynx 

Where  puma  pines  and  eagle  stinks. 

Never  a  slaver's   fetid  hold 

Has  held  the  misery  untold 

That  crowds  the  great  cats'  kennels  where 

Their  vacant  eyes  glare  blank  despair 

Half  crazed  by  sloth,  half  dazed  by  fear 

All  day,  all  night,  year  after  year. 

To  the  swift,  clean  things  that  cleave  the  air 
To  the  swift,  clean  things  that  cleave  the  sea 

1Central   Park,  filthiest,   cruellest  and  most  outrageous  of  zoological 
exhibitions. 

viii 


Foreword 


To  the  swift,  clean  things  that  brave  and  dare 

Forest  and  peak  and  prairie  free, 
A  cage  to  craze  and  stifle  and  stun 
And  a  fat  man  feeding  a  penny  bun 
And  a  she-one  giggling,  "  Ain't  it  grand !" 
As  she  drags  a  dirty-nosed  brat  by  the  hand. 


PREFACE 


On  a  beautiful  day  in  spring  as  I  was  running  as 
hard  as  I  could  run  pursued  by  the  New  York  police 
and  a  number  of  excited  citizens,  my  mind,  which  be 
comes  brilliantly  active  under  physical  exhilaration, 
began  to  work  busily. 

I  thought  about  all  sorts  of  things :  I  thought  about 
hard  times  and  financial  depression  and  about  our 
great  President  who  is  in  a  class  all  alone  with  him 
self  and  soon  to  become  extinct;  I  thought  about  art 
and  why  there  isn't  any  when  it's  talked  about;  I 
thought  of  macro-lepidoptera,  of  metagrammatism, 
monoliths,  manicures,  and  monsoons. 

And  all  the  time  I  was  running  as  fast  as  I  could 
run;  and  the  faster  I  ran  the  more  things  I  thought 
about  until  my  terrific  pace  set  my  brain  whizzing 
like  a  wheel. 

I  felt  no  remorse  at  having  published  these  memoirs 
of  my  life — which  was  why  the  police  and  populace 
were  pursuing  me,  maddened  to  frenzy  by  the  fear- 

xi 


Preface 

less  revelation  of  mighty  .scientific  truths  in  this  little 
volume  you  are  c-.bo-r.  10  attempt  to  read.  Ubicumquc 
ars  ostentatur,  vcritas  abessc  vidctur! 

I  thought  about  it  clearly,  calmly,  concisely  as  I 
fled.  The  maddened  shouts  of  the  prejudiced  popu 
lace  did  not  disturb  me.  Around  and  around  the 
Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art  I  ran ;  the  inmates  of 
that  institution  came  out  to  watch  me  and  they  knew 
at  a  glance  that  I  was  one  of  them  for  they  set  up  a 
clamor  like  a  bunch  of  decoy  ducks  when  one  of  their 
wild  comrades  comes  whirling  by. 

"Police !  Police  \"  they  shouted ;  but  I  went  career 
ing  on  uptown,  afraid  only  that  the  park  squirrels 
might  club  together  to  corner  me.  There  are  corners 
in  grain.  Why  not  in — but  let  that  pass. 

I  took  the  park  wall  in  front  of  the  great  Mr.  Car 
negie's  cottage  at  a  single  bound.  He  stood  on  his 
terrace  and  shouted,  "Police!"  He  was  quite  logical. 

The  Equal  Franchise  Society  was  having  a  May 
party  in  the  park  near  the  Harlem  Mere.  They  had 
chosen  the  Honorable  William  Jennings  Bryan  as 
Queen  of  the  May.  He  wore  low  congress-gaiters  and 
white  socks ;  he  was  walking  under  a  canopy,  crowned 
with  paper  flowers,  his  hair  curled  over  his  coat  col 
lar,  the  tips  of  his  fingers  were  suavely  joined  over 
his  abdomen. 

The  moment  he  caught  sight  of  me  he  shouted, 
"Police!" 

He  was  right.     The  cabinet  lacked  only  me. 

xii 


Preface 

And  I  might  have  consented  to  tarry — might  have 
allowed  myself  to  be  apprehended  for  political  pur 
poses,  had  not  a  nobler,  holier,  more  imperative  duty 
urged  me  northward  still. 

Though  all  Bloomingdale  shouted,  "Stop  him !"  and 
all  Matteawan  yelled,  "Police!"  I  should  not  have 
consented  to  pause.  Even  the  quackitudinous  rec 
ognition  spontaneously  offered  by  the  Metropolitan 
Museum  had  not  been  sufficient  to  decoy  me  to  my 
fellows. 

I  knew,  of  course,  that  I  could  find  a  sanctuary  and 
a  welcome  in  many  places — in  almost  any  sectarian 
edifice,  any  club,  any  newspaper  office,  any  of  the 
great  publishers',  any  school,  any  museum:  I  knew 
that  I  would  be  welcomed  at  Columbia  University,  at 
the  annex  to  the  Hall  of  Fame,  in  the  Bishop's  Pal 
ace  on  Morningside  Heights — there  were  many  places 
all  ready  to  receive,  understand  and  honour  me. 

For  a  sufficiently  crippled  intellect,  for  a  still-born 
brain,  for  the  intellectually  aborted,  there  is  always 
a  place  on  some  editorial,  sectarian,  or  educational 
staff. 

Try  It! 

But  I  had  other  ideas  as  I  galloped  northward.  The 
voiceless  summons  of  the  most  jealous  of  mistresses 
was  making  siren  music  in  my  ears.  That  coquettish 
jade,  Science,  was  calling  me  by  wireless,  and  I  was 
responding  with  both  legs. 

And  so,  at  last,  I  arrived  at  the  Bronx  Par-k  and 

xiii 


Preface 

dashed  into  the  Administration  Building  where  every 
body  rose  and  cheered  me  to  the  echo. 

I  was  at  home  at  last,  unterrified,  undismayed,  and 
ready  again  as  always  to  dedicate  my  life  to  the 
service  of  Truth  and  to  every  caprice  and  whim  of 
my  immortal  mistress,  Science.  But  I  don't  want  to 
marry  her. 

Magna  est  veritas!  Sed  major  ct  longlnquo  rever- 
entia. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

THE  THIRD  EYE 3 

THE  IMMORTAL 59 

THE  LADIES  OF  THE  LAKE 103 

ONE  OVER  .     . 157 

UN  PEU  D'AMOUR     .....          211 

THE  EGGS  OF  THE  SILVER  MOON 259 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


"Dainty  noses  to  the  wind,  their  beautiful  eyes  wide  and 
alert "  .      .     .     . Frontispiece 

11  Climbing  about  among  the  mangroves  above  the  water  "  1 1 
"To  see  him  feed  made  me  sick" 35 

"'Kemper!'  I  shouted  ....  'He's  one  of  them!    Knock 
him  flat  with  your  riflestock!'"      ....       Facing    52 

"'Say,  listen,  Bo— I  mean  Prof.,  I've  got  the  goods'"     .     68 

"He  played  on  his  concertina  ....  on  the  chance  that 
the  music  might  lure  a  cave-girl  down  the  hill"     .      .     89 

"Moving  warily  and  gracefully  amid  the  great  coquina 
slabs" 93 

"I  collapsed  into  the  arms  of  the  nicest  looking  one"  .  98 
"The  heavy  artillery  was  evidently  frightened"  .  .  .127 
"Somebody  had  swooned  in  his  arms,  too"  ....  131 

"'If  you  keep  me  up  this  tree  and  starve  me  to  death  it 
will  be  murder'"       . 147 

'"Then  a  horrible  thing  occurred"      ....       Facing  1 52 

"I  felt  so  sorry  for  her  that  I  kissed  her" 189 

"Out  of  the  mud  rose  five  or  six  dozen  mammoths"       .      .201 

"Dr.  Delmour  used  up  every  film  in  the  camera  to  record 
the  scientific  triumph  of  the  ages " 203 


List  of  Illustrations 


PAGE 

" '  Everybody  has  put  one  over  on  me ! '  I  shrieked  "  Facing  206 

"Miss  Blythe  had  carried  to  her  father  a  large  bucket  of 

lettuce  leaves" 227 

"'Don't  let  it  bite!'  cried  the  girl.     'Be  careful,  Mr. 

Smith!'" Facing  238 

"Kicked  over  the  bucket  of  salad,  and  began  to  dance  with 

rage" 248 

"'It's  a  worm!' shrieked  Blythe" 253 

"'Which  way  do  you  usually  go  home?' I  asked"        .      .  273 

"'This  little  caterpillar  ....  is  certain  to  find  those 

leaves'"   - Facing  290 


POLICE!!! 

Being  a  few  deathless  truths  concerning  several 
mysteries  recently  and  scientifically  unravelled  by  a 
modest  servant  of  Science. 

Quo  quisque  stultior,  eo  magis  insolescit. 


THE  THIRD  EYE 


THE  THIRD  EYE 

ALTHOUGH  the  man's  back  was  turned  to 
ward  me,  I  was  uncomfortably  conscious 
that  he  was  watching  me.    How  he  could 
possibly  be  watching  me  while  I  stood  directly  be 
hind  him,  I  did  not  ask  myself;  yet,  nevertheless, 
instinct  warned  me  that  I  was  being  inspected ;  that 
somehow  or  other  the  man  was  staring  at  me  as 
steadily  as  though  he  and  I  had  been  face  to  face 
and  his  faded,  sea-green  eyes  were  focussed  upon 
me. 

It  was  an  odd  sensation  which  persisted  in  spite  of 
logic,  and  of  which  I  could  not  rid  myself.  Yet  the 
little  waitress  did  not  seem  to  share  it.  Perhaps  she 


Police!  !  ! 


was  not  under  his  glassy  inspec 
tion.  But  then,  of  course,  I 
could  not  be  either. 

No  doubt  the  nervous  ten 
sion  incident  to  the  expedition 
was  making  me  supersensitive 
and  even  morbid. 

Our  sail-boat  rode  the  shal 
low  torquoise-tinted  waters  at  anchor,  rocking  gen 
tly  just  off  the  snowy  coral  reef  on  which  we  were 
now  camping.  The  youthful  waitress  who,  for  econ 
omy's  sake,  wore  her  cap,  apron,  collar  and  cuffs 
over  her  dainty  print  dress,  was  seated  by  the  signal 
fire  writing  in  her  diary.  Sometimes  she  thought 
fully  touched  her  pencil  point  with  the  tip  of  her 
tongue;  sometimes  she  replenished  the  fire  from  a 
pile  of  dead  mangrove  branches  heaped  up  on  the 
coral  reef  beside  her.  Whatever  she  did  she  ac 
complished  gracefully. 

As  for  the  man,  Grue,  his  back  remained  turned 
toward  us  both  and  he  continued,  apparently,  to  scan 
the  horizon  for  the  sail  which  we  all  expected.  And 
all  the  time  I  could  not  rid  myself  of  the  unpleasant 
idea  that  somehow  or  other  he  was  looking  at  me, 

4 


The  Third  Eye 


watching  attentively  the  expression  of  my  features 
and  noting  my  every  movement. 

The  smoke  of  our  fire  blew  wide  across  leagues  of 
shallow,  sparkling  water,  or,  when  the  wind  veered, 
whirled  back  into  our  faces  across  the  reef,  curling 
and  eddying  among  the  standing  mangroves  like  fog 
drifting. 

Seated  there  near  the  fire,  from  time  to  time  I 
swept  the  horizon  with  my  marine  glasses ;  but  there 
was  no  sign  of  Kemper;  no  sail  broke  the  far  sweep 
of  sky  and  water;  nothing  moved  out  there  save 
when  a  wild  duck  took  wing  amid  the  dark  raft  of 
its  companions  to  circle  low  above  the  ocean  and 
settle  at  random,  invisible  again  except  when,  at 
intervals,  its  white  breast  flashed  in  the  sunshine. 

Meanwhile  the  waitress  had  ceased  to  write  in 
her  diary  and  now  sat  with  the  closed  book  on  her 
knees  and  her  pencil  resting  against  her  lips,  gazing 
thought fuly  at  the  back  of  Grue's  head. 

It  was  a  ratty  head  of  straight  black  hair,  and 
looked  greasy.  The  rest  of  him  struck  me  as  equally 
unkempt  and  dingy — a  youngish  man,  lean,  deeply 
bitten  by  the  sun  of  the  semi-tropics  to  a  mahogany 
hue,  and  unusually  hairy. 

5 


Police!  !  ! 


I  don't  mind  a  brawny,  hairy  man,  but  the  hair  on 
Grue's  arms  and  chest  was  a  rusty  red,  and  like  a 
chimpanzee's  in  texture,  and  sometimes  a  wildly 
absurd  idea  possessed  me  that  the  man  needed  it 
when  he  went  about  in  the  palm  forests  without  his 
clothes. 

But  he  was  only  a  "poor  white" — a  "cracker" 
recruited  from  one  of  the  reefs  near  Pelican  Light, 
where  he  lived  alone  by  fishing  and  selling  his  fish 
to  the  hotels  at  Heliatrope  City.  The  sail-boat  was 
his ;  he  figured  as  our  official  guide  on  this  expedi 
tion — an  expedition  which  already  had  begun  to 
worry  me  a  great  deal. 

For  it  was,  perhaps,  the  wildest  goose  chase  and 
the  most  absurdly  hopeless  enterprise  ever  under 
taken  in  the  interest  of  science  by  the  Bronx  Park 
authorities. 

Nothing  is  more  dreaded  by  scientists  than  ridi 
cule;  and  it  was  in  spite  of  this  terror  of  ridicule 
that  I  summoned  sufficient  courage  to  organize  an 
exploring  party  and  start  out  in  search  of  some 
thing  so  extraordinary,  so  hitherto  unheard  of,  that 
I  had  not  dared  reveal  to  Kemper  by  letter  the  ob 
ject  of  my  quest. 

6 


The  Third  Eye 


No,  I  did  not  care  to  commit  myself  to  writing 
just  yet;  'I  had  merely  sent  Kemper  a  letter  to  join 
me  on  Sting-ray  Key. 

He  telegraphed  me  from  Tampa  that  he  would 
join  me  at  the  rendezvous;  and  I  started  directly 
from  Bronx  Park  for  Heliatrope  City;  arrived 
there  in  three  days ;  found  the  waitress  all  ready  to 
start  with  me;  inquired  about  a  guide  and  discov 
ered  the  man  Grue  in  his  hut  off  Pelican  Light; 
made  my  bargain  with  him ;  and  set  sail  for  Sting 
ray  Key,  the  most  excited  and  the  most  nervous 
young  man  who  ever  had  dared  disaster  in  the 
sacred  cause  of  science. 

Everything  was  now  at  stake,  my  honour,  repu 
tation,  career,  fortune.  For,  as  chief  of  the  An 
thropological  Field  Survey  Department  of  the  great 
Bronx  Park  Zoological  Society,  I  was  perfectly 
aware  that  no  scientific  reputation  can  survive  ridi 
cule. 

Nevertheless,  the  die  had  been  cast,  the  Rubicon 
crossed  in  a  sail-boat  containing  one  beachcombing 
cracker,  one  hotel  waitress,  a  pile  of  camping  kit 
and  special  utensils,  and  myself! 

How  was  I  going  to  tell  Kemper?     How  was  I 

Z 


Police!  !  I 


going  to  confess  to  him  that  I  was  staking  rny  repu 
tation  as  an  anthropologist  upon  a  letter  or  two  and 
a  personal  interview  with  a  young  girl — a  waitress 
at  the  Hotel  Gardenia  in  Heliatrope  City? 

I  lowered  my  sea-glasses  and  glanced  sideways  at 
the  waitress.  She  was  still  chewing  the  end  of  her 
pencil,  reflectively. 

She  was  a  pretty  girl,  one  Evelyn  Grey,  and  had 
been  a  country  school-teacher  in  Massachusetts  un 
til  her  health  broke. 

Florida  was  what  she  required;  but  that  healing 
climate  was  possible  to  her  only  if  she  could  find 
there  a  self-supporting  position. 

Also  she  had  nourished  an  ambition  for  a  post 
graduate  education,  with  further  aspirations  to  a 
Government  appointment  in  the  Smithsonian  Insti 
tute. 

All  very  worthy,  no  doubt — in  fact,  particularly 
commendable  because  the  wages  she  saved  as  wait 
ress  in  a  Florida  hotel  during  the  winter  were  her 
only  means  of  support  while  studying  for  college 
examinations  during  the  summer  in  Boston,  where 
she  lived. 

8 


The  Third  Eye 


Yet,  although  she  was  an  inmate  of  Massachu 
setts,  her  face  and  figure  would  have  ornamented 
any  light-opera  stage.  I  never  looked  at  her  but 
I  thought  so;  and  her  cuffs  and  apron  merely  ac 
centuated  the  delusion.  Such  ankles  are  seldom 
seen  when  the  curtain  rises  after  the  overture.  Odd 
that  frivolous  thoughts  could  flit  through  an  intel 
lect  dedicated  only  to  science ! 

The  man,  Grue,  had  not  stirred  from  his  survey 
of  the  Atlantic  Ocean.  He  had  a  somewhat  dis 
turbing  capacity  for  remaining  motionless — like  a 
stealthy  and  predatory  bird  which  depends  on  im 
mobility  for  agressive  and  defensive  existence. 

The  sea-wind  fluttered  his  cotton  shirt  and 
trousers  and  the  tattered  brim  of  his  straw  hat. 
And  always  I  felt  as  though  he  were  watching  me 
out  of  the  back  of  his  ratty  head,  through  the 
ravelled  straw  brim  that  sagged  over  his  neck. 

The  pretty  waitress  had  now  chewed  the  end 
of  her  pencil  to  a  satisfactory  pulp,  and  she  was 
writing  again  in  her  diary,  very  intently,  so 
that  my  cautious  touch  on  her  arm  seemed  to  startle 
her. 

Meeting  her  inquiring  eyes  I  said  in  a  low  voice : 

9 


Police!  !  ! 


"I  am  not  sure  why,  but  I  don't  seem  to  care 
very  much  for  that  man,  Grue.  Do  you?'* 

She  glanced  at  the  water's  edge,  where  Grue 
stood,  immovable,  his  back  still  turned  to  us. 

"I  never  liked  him,"  she  said  under  her  breath. 

"Why?"  I  asked  cautiously. 

She  merely  shrugged  her  shoulders.  She  did  it 
gracefully. 

I  said : 

"Have  you  any  particular  reason  for  disliking 
him?" 

"He's  dirty." 

"He  looks  dirty,  yet  every  day  he  goes  into  the 
sea  and  swims  about.  He  ought  to  be  clean 
enough." 

She  thought  for  a  moment,  then : 

"He  seems,  somehow,  to  be  fundamentally  un 
clean — I  don't  mean  that  he  doesn't  wash  himself. 
But  there  are  certain  sorts  of  animals  and  birds  and 
other  creatures  from  which  one  instinctively  shrinks 
— not,  perhaps,  because  they  are  materially  un 
clean " 

"I  understand,"  I  said.  After  a  silence  I  added : 
"Well,  there's  no  chance  now  of  sending  him  back, 

10 


"  Climbing  about  among  the  mangroves  above  the 
water." 


Police!  !  ! 


even  if  I  were  inclined  to  do  so.  He  appears  to 
be  familiar  with  these  latitudes.  I  don't  suppose 
we  could  find  a  better  man  for  our  purpose.  Do 
you?" 

"No.     He  was  a  sponge  fisher  once,  I  believe." 

"Did  he  tell  you  so?" 

"No.  But  yesterday,  when  you  took  the  boat 
and  cruised  to  the  south,  I  sat  writing  here  and 
keeping  up  the  fire.  And  I  saw  Grue  climbing 
about  among  the  mangroves  over  the  water  in  a 
most  uncanny  way;  and  two  snake-birds  sat  watch 
ing  him,  and  they  never  moved. 

"He  didn't  seem  to  see  them;  his  back  was  to 
ward  them.  And  then,  all  at  once,  he  leaped  back 
ward  at  them  where  they  sat  on  a  mangrove,  and 
he  got  one  of  them  by  the  neck " 

"What!" 

The  girl  nodded. 

"By  the  neck,"  she  repeated,  "and  down  they 
went  into  the  water.  And  what  do  you  suppose 
happened  ?" 

"I  can't  imagine,"  said  I  with  a  grimace. 

"Well,  Grue  went  under,  still  clutching  the 
squirming,  flapping  bird ;  and  he  stayed  under." 

12 


The  Third  Eye 


"Stayed  under  the  water?" 

"Yes,  longer  than  any  sponge  diver  I  ever  heard 
of.  And  I  was  becoming  frightened  when  the 
bloody  bubbles  and  feathers  began  to  come  up " 

"What  was  he  doing  under  water?" 

"He  must  have  been  tearing  the  bird  to  pieces. 
Oh,  it  was  quite  unpleasant,  I  assure  you,  Mr. 
Smith.  And  when  he  came  up  and  looked  at  me 
out  of  those  very  vitreous  eyes  he  resembled  some 
thing  horridly  amphibious.  .  .  .  And  I  felt  rather 
sick  and  dizzy." 

"He's  got  to  stop  that  sort  of  thing!"  I  said 
angrily.  "Snake-birds  are  harmless  and  I  won't 
have  him  killing  them  in  that  barbarous  fashion. 
I've  warned  him  already  to  let  birds  alone.  I  don't 
know  how  he  catches  them  or  why  he  kills  them. 
But  he  seems  to  have  a  mania  for  doing  it " 

I  was  interrupted  by  Grue's  soft  and  rather  pleas 
ant  voice  from  the  water's  edge,  announcing  a 
sail  on  the  horizon.  He  did  not  turn  when  speak 
ing. 

The  next  moment  I  made  out  the  sail  and 
focussed  my  glasses  on  it. 

"It's  Professor  Kemper,"  I  announced  presently. 

3 


Police!!  ! 


"I'm  so  glad,"  remarked  Evelyn  Grey. 

I  don't  know  why  it  should  have  suddenly  oc 
curred  to  me,  apropos  of  nothing,  that  Billy  Kem- 
per  was  unusually  handsome.  Or  why  I  should 
have  turned  and  looked  at  the  pretty  waitress — 
except  that  she  was,  perhaps,  worth  gazing  upon 
from  a  purely  non-scientific  point  of  view.  In  fact, 
to  a  man  not  entirely  absorbed  in  scientific  research 
and  not  passionately  and  irrevocably  wedded  to  his 
profession,  her  violet-blue  eyes  and  rather  sweet 
mouth  might  have  proved  disturbing. 

As  I  was  thinking  about  this  she  looked  up  at 
me  and  smiled. 

"It's  a  good  thing,"  I  thought  to  myself,  "that 
I  am  irrevocably  wedded  to  my  profession."  And 
I  gazed  fixedly  across  the  Atlantic  Ocean. 

There  was  scarcely  sufficient  breeze  of  a  steady 
character  to  bring  Kemper  to  Sting-ray  Key;  but 
he  got  out  his  sweeps  when  I  hailed  him  and  came 
in  at  a  lively  clip,  anchoring  alongside  of  our  boat 
and  leaping  ashore  with  that  unnecessary  dash  and 
abandon  which  women  find  pleasing. 

Glancing  sideways  at  my  waitress  through  my 

14 


The  Third  Eye 


spectacles,  I  found  her  looking  into  a  small  hand 
mirror  and  patting  her  hair  with  one  slim  and  sun 
tanned  hand. 

When  Professor  Kemper  landed  on  the  coral  he 
shot  a  curious  look  at  Grue,  and  then  came  striding 
across  the  reef  to  me. 

"Hello,  Smithy!"  he  said,  holding  out  his  hand. 
"Here  I  am,  you  see !  Now  what's  up " 

Just  then  Evelyn  Grey  got  up  from  her  seat  be 
side  the  fire;  and  Kemper  turned  and  gazed  at  her 
with  every  symptom  of  unfeigned  approbation. 

I  introduced  him.  Evelyn  Grey  seemed  a  trifle 
indifferent.  A  good-looking  man  doesn't  last  long 
with  a  clever  woman.  I  smiled  to  myself,  polish 
ing  my  spectacles  gleefully.  Yet,  I  had  no  idea 
why  I  was  smiling. 

We  three  people  turned  and  walked  toward  the 
comb  of  the  reef.  A  solitary  palm  represented  the 
island's  vegetation,  except,  of  course,  for  the  water- 
growing  mangroves. 

I  asked  Miss  Grey  to  precede  us  and  wait  for 
us  under  the  palm;  and  she  went  forward  in  that 
light-footed  way  of  hers  which,  to  any  non-scientific 
man,  might  have  been  a  trifle  disturbing.  It  had 

15 


Police!  !  ! 


no  effect  upon  me.  Besides,  I  was  looking  at  Grue, 
who  had  gone  to  the  fire  and  was  evidently  prepar 
ing  to  fry  our  evening  meal  of  fish  and  rice.  I 
didn't  like  to  have  him  cook,  but  I  wasn't  going  to 
do  it  myself;  and  my  pretty  waitress  didn't  know 
how  to  cook  anything  more  complicated  than  beans. 
We  had  no  beans. 

Kemper  said  to  me: 
,  "Why  on  earth  did  you  bring  a  waitress?" 

"Not  to  wait  on  table,"  I  replied,  amused.  "I'll 
explain  her  later.  Meanwhile,  I  merely  want  to  say 
that  you  need  not  remain  with  this  expedition  if 
you  don't  want  to.  It's  optional  with  you." 

"That's  a  funny  thing  to  say!" 

"No,  not  funny;  sad.  The  truth  is  that  if  I 
fail  I'll  be  driven  into  obscurity  by  the  ridicule  of 
my  brother  scientists  the  world  over.  I  had  to  tell 
them  at  the  Bronx  what  I  was  going  after.  Every 
man  connected  with  the  society  attempted  to  dis 
suade  me,  saying  that  the  whole  thing  was  absurd 
and  that  my  reputation  would  suffer  if  I  engaged 
in  such  a  ridiculous  quest.  So  when  you  hear  what 
that  girl  and  I  are  after  out  here  in  the  semi- 
tropics,  and  when  you  are  in  possession  of  the  only 

16 


The  Third  Eye 


evidence  I  have  to  justify  my  credulity,  if  you  want 
to  go  home,  go.  Because  I  don't  wish  to  risk  your 
reputation  as  a  scientist  unless  you  choose  to  risk 
it  yourself/' 

He  regarded  me  curiously,  then  his  eyes  strayed 
toward  the  palm-tree  which  Evelyn  Grey  was  now 
approaching. 

"All  right/'  he  said  briefly,  "let's  hear  what's  up." 

So  we  moved  forward  to  rejoin  the  girl,  who  had 
already  seated  herself  under  the  tree* 

She  looked  very  attractive  in  her  neat  cuffs,  tiny 
cap,  and  pink  print  gown,  as  we  approached  her. 

"Why  does  she  dress  that  way?"  asked  Kemper, 
uneasily. 

"Economy.  She  desires  to  use  up  the  habili 
ments  of  a  service  which  there  will  be  no  necessity 
for  her  to  reenter  if  this  expedition  proves  succes- 
ful." 

"Oh.     But  Smithy " 

"What?" 

"Was  it — moral — to  bring  a  waitress?" 

"Perfectly,"  I  replied  sharply.  "Science  knows 
no  sex!" 

"I  don't  understand  how  a  waitress  can  be  scien- 


Police!!! 


tific,"  he  muttered,  "and  there  seems  to  be  no  ques 
tion  about  her  possessing  plenty  of  sex " 

"If  that  girl's  conclusions  are  warranted,"  I  in 
terrupted  coldly,  "she  is  a  most  intelligent  and 
clever  person.  /  think  they  are  warranted.  If  you 
don't,  you  may  go  home  as  soon  as  you  like." 

I  glanced  at  him ;  he  was  smiling  at  her  with  that 
strained  politeness  which  alters  the  natural  expres 
sion  of  men  in  the  imminence  of  a  conversation  with 
a  new  and  pretty  woman. 

I  often  wonder  what  particular  combination  of 
facial  muscles  are  brought  into  play  when  that 
politely  receptive  expression  transforms  the  normal 
and  masculine  features  into  a  fixed  simper. 

When  Kemper  and  I  had  seated  ourselves,  I 
calmly  cut  short  the  small  talk  in  which  he  was 
already  indulging,  and  to  which,  I  am  sorry  to  say, 
my  pretty  waitress  was  beginning  to  respond.  I 
had  scarcely  thought  it  of  her — but  that's  neither 
here  nor  there — and  I  invited  her  to  recapitulate 
the  circumstances  which  had  resulted  in  our  present 
foregathering  here  on  this  strip  of  coral  in  the  At 
lantic  Ocean. 

She  did  so  very  modestly  and  without  embarrass- 

18 


The  Third  Eye 


ment,  stating  the  case  and  reviewing  the  evidence  so 
clearly  and  so  simply  that  I  could  see  how  every 
word  she  uttered  was  not  only  amazing  but  also 
convincing  Kemper. 

When  she  had  ended  he  asked  a  few  questions 
very  seriously: 

"Granted,"  he  said,  "that  the  pituitary  gland  rep 
resents  what  we  assume  it  represents,  how  much 
faith  is  to  be  placed  in  the  testimony  of  a  Seminole 
Indian?" 

"A  Seminole  Indian,"  she  replied,  "has  seldom 
or  never  been  known  to  lie.  And  where  a  whole 
tribe  testify  alike  the  truth  of  what  they  assert 
can  not  be  questioned." 

"How  did  you  make  them  talk?  They  are  a 
sullen,  suspicious  people,  haughty,  uncommunica 
tive,  seldom  even  replying  to  an  ordinary  question 
from  a  white  man." 

"They  consider  me  one  of  them." 

"Why?"  he  asked  in  surprise. 

"I'll  tell  you  why.  It  came  about  through  a  mere 
accident.  I  was  waitress  at  the  hotel ;  it  happened 
to  be  my  afternoon  off;  so  I  went  down  to  the 
coquina  dock  to  study.  I  study  in  my  leisure  mo- 

19 


Police!  !  ! 


ments,  because  I  wish  to  fit  myself  for  a  college 
examination." 

Her  charming  face  became  serious;  she  picked 
up  the  hem  of  her  apron  and  continued  to  pleat  it 
slowly  and  with  precision  as  she  talked  : 

"There  was  a  Seminole  named  Tiger-tail  sitting 
there,  his  feet  dangling  above  his  moored  canoe, 
evidently  waiting  for  the  tide  to  turn  before  he 
went  out  to  spear  crayfish.  I  merely  noticed  he  was 
sitting  there  in  the  sunshine,  that's  all.  And  then 
I  opened  my  mythology  book  and  turned  to  the 
story  of  Argus,  on  which  I  was  reading  up. 

"And  this  is  what  happened :  there  was  a  picture 
of  the  death  of  Argus,  facing  the  printed  page 
which  I  was  reading — the  well-known  picture  where 
Juno  is  holding  the  head  of  the  decapitated  monster 
— and  I  had  read  scarcely  a  dozen  words  in  the 
book  before  the  Seminole  beside  me  leaned  over  and 
placed  his  forefinger  squarely  upon  the  head  of 
Argus. 

"  'Who?'  he  demanded. 

"I  looked  around  good-humoredly  and  was  sur 
prised  at  the  evident  excitement  of  the  Indian. 
They're  not  excitable,  you  know. 

20 


The  Third  Eye 


"That/  said  I,  'is  a  Greek  gentleman  named 
Argus.'  I  suppose  he  thought  I  meant  a  Minorcan, 
for  he  nodded.  Then,  without  further  comment, 
he  placed  his  finger  on  Juno. 

"  'Who?'  he  inquired  emphatically. 

"I  said  flippantly:  'Oh,  that's  only  my  aunt, 
Juno/ 

"'Aunty  of  you?' 

"  'Yes.' 

'"She  kill  'urn  Three-eye?' 

"Argus  had  been  depicted  with  three  eyes. 

"  'Yes,'  I  said,  'my  Aunt  Juno  had  Argus  killed.' 

"'Why  kill  'urn?' 

"  'Well,  Aunty  needed  his  eyes  to  set  in  the  tails 
of  the  peacocks  which  drew  her  automobile.  So 
when  they  cut  off  the  head  of  Argus  my  aunt  had 
the  eyes  taken  out;  and  that's  a  picture  of  how  she 
set  them  into  the  peacock.' 

"  'Aunty  of  you?'  he  repeated. 

"  'Certainly,'  I  said  gravely ;  'I  am  a  direct  de 
scendant  of  the  Goddess  of  Wisdom.  That's  why 
I'm  always  studying  when  you  see  me  down  on 
the  dock  here.' 

"  'You  Seminole!'  he  said  emphatically. 

21 


Police!  !  ! 


"  'Seminole,'  I  repeated,  puzzled. 

"  'You  Seminole !  Aunty  Seminole — you  Sem- 
inole !' 

"'Why,  Tiger-tail?' 

"  'Seminole  hunt  Three-eye  long-  time — hundred, 
hundred  year — hunt  'um  Three-eye,  kill  'um  Three- 
eye.' 

"  'You  say  that  for  hundreds  of  years  the  Semi- 
noles  have  hunted  a  creature  with  three  eyes  ?' 

"  'Sure !     Hunt  'um  now !' 

"  'Now? 

"'Sure!' 

'  'But,  Tiger-tail,  if  the  legends  of  your  people 
tell  you  that  the  Seminoles  hunted  a  creature  with 
three  eyes  hundreds  of  years  ago,  certainly  no  such 
three-eyed  creatures  remain  today?' 

"  'Some.' 

"'What!     Where  ?' 

"  'Black  Bayou.' 

'  'Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  a  living  creature 
with  three  eyes  still  inhabits  the  forests  of  Black 
Bayou?' 

"  'Sure.  Me  see  'um.  Me  kill  'um  three-eye 
man/ 

22 


The  Third  Eye 


'  'You  have  killed  a  man  who  had  three  eyes?' 
"'Surer 

"  'A  man  ?     With  three  eyes? 
"  'Sure.'  " 

The  pretty  waitress,  excitedly  engrossed  in  her 
story,  was  unconsciously  acting  out  the  thrilling 
scene  of  her  dialogue  with  the  Indian,  even  imitat 
ing  his  voice  and  gestures.  And  Kemper  and  I 
listened  and  watched  her  breathlessly,  fascinated  by 
her  lithe  and  supple  grace  as  well  as  by  the  astound 
ing  story  she  was  so  frankly  unfolding  with  the 
consummate  artlessness  of  a  natural  actress. 

She  turned  her  flushed  face  to  us: 

"I  made  up  my  mind,"  she  said,  "that  Tiger- 
tail's  story  was  worth  investigating.  It  was  per 
fectly  easy  for  me  to  secure  corroboration,  because 
that  Seminole  went  back  to  his  Everglade  camp  and 
told  every  one  of  his  people  that  I  was  a  white 
Seminole  because  my  ancestors  also  hunted  the 
three-eyed  man  and  nobody  except  a  Seminole  could 
know  that  such  a  thing  as  a  three-eyed  man  existed. 

"So,  the  next  afternoon  off,  I  embarked  in  Tiger- 
tail's  canoe  and  he  took  me  to  his  camp.  And 


Police!  !  ! 


there  I  talked  to  his  people,  men  and  women,  ques 
tioning,  listening,  putting  this  and  that  together, 
trying  to  discover  some  foundation  for  their  per 
sistent  statements  concerning  men,  still  living  in  the 
jungles  of  Black  Bayou,  who  had  three  eyes  instead 
of  two. 

"All  told  the  same  story;  all  asserted  that  since 
the  time  their  records  ran  the  Seminoles  had  hunted 
and  slain  every  three-eyed  man  they  could  catch; 
and  that  as  long  as  the  Seminoles  had  lived  in  the 
Everglades  the  three-eyed  men  had  lived  in  the  for 
ests  beyond  Black  Bayou." 

She  paused,  dramatically,  cooling  her  cheeks  in 
her  palms  and  looking  from  Kemper  to  me  with 
eyes  made  starry  by  excitement. 

"And  what  do  you  think!"  she  continued,  under 
her  breath.  "To  prove  what  they  said  they  brought 
for  my  inspection  a  skull.  And  then  two  more 
skulls  like  the  first  one. 

"Every  skull  had  been  painted  with  Spanish  red ; 
the  coarse  black  hair  still  stuck  to  the  scalps.  And, 
behind,  just  over  where  the  pituitary  gland  is  situ 
ated,  was  a  hollow,  bony  orbit — unmistakably  the 
socket  of  a  third  eye!" 

24 


The  Third  Eye 


"W-where  are  those  skulls?"  demanded  Kemper, 
in  a  voice  not  entirely  under  control. 

"They  wouldn't  part  with  one  of  them.  I  tried 
every  possible  persuasion.  On  my  own  responsi 
bility,  and  even  before  I  communicated  with  Mr. 
Smith — "  turning  toward  me,  " — I  offered  them 
twenty  thousand  dollars  for  a  single  skull,  staking 
my  word  of  honour  that  the  Bronx  Museum  would 
pay  that  sum. 

"It  was  useless.  Not  only  do  the  Seminoles  re 
fuse  to  part  with  one  of  those  skulls,  but  I  have 
also  learned  that  I  am  the  first  person  with  a  white 
skin  who  has  ever  even  heard  of  their  existence — so 
profoundly  have  these  red  men  of  the  Everglades 
guarded  their  secret  through  centuries." 

After  a  silence  Kemper,  rather  pale,  remarked: 

"This  is  a  most  astonishing  business,  Miss  Grey." 

"What  do  you  think  about  it?"  I  demanded.  "Is 
it  not  worth  while  for  us  to  explore  Black  Bayou  ?" 

He  nodded  in  a  dazed  sort  of  way,  but  his 
gaze  remained  riveted  on  the  girl.  Presently  he 
said: 

"Why  does  Miss  Grey  go?" 

She  turned  in  surprise: 

25 


Police!  !  ! 


"Why  am  I  going?  But  it  is  my  discovery — 
my  contribution  to  science,  isn't  it?'* 

"Certainly !"  we  exclaimed  warmly  and  in  unison. 
And  Kemper  added:  "I  was  only  thinking  of  the 
dangers  and  hardships.  Smith  and  I  could  do  the 
actual  work " 

"Oh!"  she  cried  in  quick  protest,  "I  wouldn't 
miss  one  moment  of  the  excitement,  one  pain,  one 
pang !  I  love  it !  It  would  simply  break  my  heart 
not  to  share  every  chance,  hazard,  danger  of  this 
expedition — every  atom  of  hope,  excitement,  de 
spair,  uncertainty — and  the  ultimate  success — the 
unsurpassable  thrill  of  exultation  in  the  final  instant 
of  triumph!" 

She  sprang  to  her  feet  in  a  flash  of  uncontrollable 
enthusiasm,  and  stood  there,  aglow  with  courage 
and  resolution,  making  a  highly  agreeable  picture 
in  her  apron  and  cuffs,  the  sea  wind  fluttering  the 
bright  tendrils  of  her  hair  under  her  dainty  cap. 

We  got  to  our  feet  much  impressed;  and  now 
absolutely  convinced  that  there  did  exist,  some 
where,  descendants  of  prehistoric  men  in  whom  the 
third  eye — placed  in  the  back  of  the  head  for  pur 
poses  of  defensive  observation — had  not  become 

26 


The  Third  Eye 


obsolete  and  reduced  to  the  traces  which  we  know 
only  as  the  pituitary  body  or  pituitary  gland. 

Kemper  and  I  were,  of  course,  aware  that  in  the 
inseot  world  the  ocelli  served  the  same  purpose  that 
the  degenerate  pituitary  body  once  served  in  the 
occiput  of  man. 

As  we  three  walked  slowly  back  to  the  campfire, 
where  our  evening  meal  was  now  ready,  Evelyn 
Grey,  who  walked  between  us,  told  us  what  she 
knew  about  the  hunting  of  these  three-eyed  men  by 
the  Seminoles — how  intense  was  the  hatred  of  the 
Indians  for  these  people,  how  murderously  they 
behaved  toward  any  one  of  them  whom  they  could 
track  down  and  catch. 

"Tiger-tail  told  me,"  she  went  on,  "that  in  all 
probability  the  strange  race  was  nearing  extinction, 
but  that  all  had  not  yet  been  exterminated  because 
now  and  then,  when  hunting  along  Black  Bayou, 
traces  of  living  three-eyed  men  were  still  found  by 
him  and  his  people. 

"No  later  than  last  week  Tiger-tail  himself  had 
startled  one  of  these  strange  denizens  of  Black 
Bayou  from  a  meal  of  fish;  and  had  heard  him 
leap  through  the  bushes  and  plunge  into  the  water. 

27 


Police!  !  ! 


It  appears  that  centuries  of  persecution  have  made 
these  three-eyed  men  partly  amphibious — that  is, 
capable  of  filling  their  lungs  with  air  and  remaining 
under  water  almost  as  long  as  a  turtle." 

"That's  impossible !"  said  Kemper  bluntly. 

"I  thought  so  myself,"  she  said  with  a  smile, 
"until  Tiger-tail  told  me  a  little  more  about  them. 
He  says  that  they  can  breathe  through  the  pores 
of  their  skins;  that  their  bodies  are  covered  with  a 
thick,  silky  hair,  and  that  when  they  dive  they  carry 
down  with  them  enough  air  to  form  a  sort  of  skin 
over  them,  so  that  under  water  their  bodies  appear 
to  be  silver-plated." 

"Good  Lord !"  faltered  Kemper.  "That  is  a  little 
too  much !" 

"Yet,"  said  I,  "that  is  exactly  what  air-breathing 
water  beetles  do.  The  globules  of  air,  clinging  to 
the  body-hairs,  appear  to  silver-plate  them;  and 
they  can  remain  below  indefinitely,  breathing 
through  spiracles.  Doubtless  the  skin  pores  of 
these  men  have  taken  on  the  character  of  spira 
cles." 

"You  know,"  he  said  in  a  curious,  flat  voice, 
which  sounded  like  the  tones  of  a  partly  stupified 

28 


The  Third  Eye 


man,  "this  whole  business  is  so  grotesque — appar 
ently  so  wildly  absurd — that  it's  having  a  sort  of 
nightmare  effect  on  me."  And,  dropping  his  voice 
to  a  whisper  close  to  my  ear:  "Good  heavens!"  he 
said.  "Can  you  reconcile  such  a  creature  as  we  are 
starting  out  to  hunt,  with  anything  living  known  to 
science  ?" 

"No,"  I  replied  in  guarded  tones.  "And  there 
are  moments,  Kemper,  since  I  have  come  into  pos 
session  of  Miss  Grey's  story,  when  I  find  myself 
seriously  doubting  my  own  sanity." 

"I'm  doubting  mine,  now,"  he  whispered,  "only 
that  girl  is  so  fresh  and  wholesome  and  human  and 
sane » 

"She  is  a  very  clever  girl,"  -I  said. 

"And  really  beautiful !" 

"She  is  intelligent,"  I  remarked.  There  was  a 
chill  in  my  tone  which  doubtless  discouraged  Kem 
per,  for  he  ventured  nothing  further  concerning 
her  superficially  personal  attractions. 

After  all,  if  any  questions  of  priority  were  to 
arise,  the  pretty  waitress  was  my  discovery.  And 
in  the  scientific  world  it  is  an  inflexible  rule  that 
he  who  first  discovers  any  particular  specimen  of 

4  29 


Police!  !  ! 


any  species  whatever  is  first  entitled  to  describe  and 
comment  upon  that  specimen  without  interference 
or  unsolicited  advice  from  anybody. 

Maybe  there  was  in  my  eye  something  that  ex 
pressed  as  much.  For  when  Kemper  caught  my 
cold  gaze  fixed  upon  him  he  winced  and  looked 
away  like  a  reproved  setter  dog  who  knew  better. 
Which  also,  for  the  moment,  put  an  end  to  the 
rather  gay  and  frivolous  line  of  small  talk  which 
he  had  again  begun  with  the  pretty  waitress. 

I  was  exceedingly  surprised  at  Professor  William 
Henry  Kemper,  D.F. 

As  we  approached  the  campfire  the  loathsome 
odour  of  frying  mullet  saluted  my  nostrils. 

Kemper,  glancing  at  Grue,  said  aside  to  me : 

"That's  an  odd-looking  fellow.  What  is  he? 
Minorcan  ?" 

"Oh,  just  a  beachcomber.  I  don't  know  what 
he  is.  He  strikes  me  as  dirty — though  he  can't  be 
so,  physically.  I  don't  like  him  and  I  don't  know 
why.  And  I  wish  we'd  engaged  somebody  else  to 
guide  us." 

Toward  dawn  something  awoke  me  and  I  sat  up 
30 


The  Third  Eye 


in  my  blanket  under  the  moon.  But  my  leg  had 
not  been  pulled. 

Kemper  snored  at  my  side.  In  her  little  dog- 
tent  the  pretty  waitress  probably  was  fast  asleep. 
I  knew  it  because  the  string  she  had  tied  to  one  of 
her  ornamental  ankles  still  lay  across  the  ground 
convenient  to  my  hand.  In  any  emergency  I  had 
only  to  pull  it  to  awake  her. 

A  similar  string,  tied  to  my  ankle,  ran  parallel 
to  hers  and  disappeared  under  the  flap  of  her  tent. 
This  was  for  her  to  pull  if  she  liked.  She  had 
never  yet  pulled  it.  Nor  I  the  other.  Neverthe 
less  I  truly  felt  that  these  humble  strings  were,  in  a 
subtler  sense,  ties  that  bound  us  together.  No  won 
der  Kemper's  behaviour  had  slightly  irritated  me. 

I  looked  up  at  the  silver  moon;  I  glanced  at 
Kemper's  unlovely  bulk,  swathed  in  a  blanket;  I 
contemplated  the  dog-tent  with,  perhaps,  that  slight 
trace  of  sentiment  which  a  semi-tropical  moon  is 
likely  to  inspire  even  in  a  jellyfish.  And  suddenly 
I  remembered  Grue  and  looked  for  him. 

He  was  accustomed  to  sleep  in  his  boat,  but  I 
did  not  see  him  in  either  of  the  boats.  Here  and 
there  were  a  few  lumpy  shadows  in  the  moonlight, 


Police!  !! 


but  none  of  them  was  Grue  lying  prone  on  the 
ground.  Where  the  devil  had  he  gone? 

Cautiously  I  untied  my  ankle  string,  rose  in  my 
pajamas,  stepped  into  my  slippers,  and  walked  out 
through  the  moonlight. 

There  was  nothing  to  hide  Grue,  no  rocks  or 
vegetation  except  the  solitary  palm  on  the  back 
bone  of  the  reef. 

I  walked  as  far  as  the  tree  and  looked  up  into 
the  arching  fronds.  Nobody  was  up  there.  I 
could  see  the  moonlit  sky  through  the  fronds.  Nor 
was  Grue  lying  asleep  anywhere  on  the  other  side 
of  the  coral  ridge. 

And  suddenly  I  became  aware  of  all  my  latent 
distrust  and  dislike  for  the  man.  And  the  vigour 
of  my  sentiments  surprised  me  because  I  really  had 
not  understood  how  deep  and  thorough  my  dislike 
had  been. 

Also,  his  utter  disappearance  struck  me  as  un 
canny.  Both  boats  were  there;  and  there  were 
many  leagues  of  sea  to  the  nearest  coast. 

Troubled  and  puzzled  I  turned  and  walked  back 
to  the  dead  embers  of  the  fire.  Kemper  had  merely 
changed  the  timbre  of  his  snore  to  a  whistling  aria, 

32 


The  Third  Eye 


which  at  any  other  time  would  have  enraged  me. 
Now,  somehow,  it  almost  comforted  me. 

Seated  on  the  shore  I  looked  out  to  sea,  racking 
my  brains  for  an  explanation  of  Grue's  disappear 
ance.  And  while  I  sat  there  racking  them,  far  out 
on  the  water  a  little  flock  of  ducks  suddenly  scat 
tered  and  rose  with  frightened  quackings  and  furi 
ously  beating  wings. 

For  a  moment  I  thought  I  saw  a  round,  dark 
object  on  the  waves  where  the  flock  had  been. 

And  while  I  sat  there  watching,  up  out  of  the 
sea  along  the  reef  to  my  right  crawled  a  naked, 
dripping  figure  holding  a  dead  duck  in  his  mouth. 

Fascinated,  I  watched  it,  recognising  Grue  with 
his  ratty  black  hair  all  plastered  over  his  face. 

Whether  he  caught  sight  of  me  or  not,  I  don't 
know ;  but  he  suddenly  dropped  the  dead  duck  from 
his  mouth,  turned,  and  dived  under  water. 

It  was  a  grim  and  horrid  species  of  sport  or 
pastime,  this  amphibious  business  of  his,  catching 
wild  birds  and  dragging  them  about  as  though  he 
were  an  animal. 

Evidently  he  was  ashamed  of  himself,  for  he  had 
dropped  the  duck.  I  watched  it  floating  by  on  the 

33 


Police!  !  ! 


waves,  its  head  under  water.  Suddenly  something 
jerked  it  under,  a  fish  perhaps,  for  it  did  not  come 
up  and  float  again,  as  far  as  I  could  see. 

When  I  went  back  to  camp  Grue  lay  apparently 
asleep  on  the  north  side  of  the  fire.  I  glanced  at 
him  in  disgust  and  crawled  into  my  tent. 

The  next  day  Evelyn  Grey  awoke  with  a  head 
ache  and  kept  her  tent.  I  had  all  I  could  do  to 
prevent  Kemper  from  prescribing  for  her.  I  did 
that  myself,  sitting  beside  her  and  testing  her  pulse 
for  hours  at  a  time,  while  Kemper  took  one  of 
Grue's  grains  and  went  off  into  the  mangroves  and 
speared  grunt  and  eels  for  a  chowder  which  he  said 
he  knew  how  to  concoct. 

Toward  afternoon  the  pretty  waitress  felt  much 
better,  and  I  warned  Kemper  and  Grue  that  we 
should  sail  for  Black  Bayou  after  dinner. 

Dinner  was  a  mess,  as  usual,  consisting  of  fried 
mullet  and  rice,  and  a  sort  of  chowder  in  which 
the  only  ingredients  I  recognised  were  sections  of 
crayfish. 

After  we  had  finished  and  had  withdrawn  from 
the  fire,  Grue  scraped  every  remaining  shred  of 

34 


"To  see  him  feed  made  me  sick." 


Police!  !  ! 


food  into  a  kettle  and  went  for  it.  To  see  him 
feed  made  me  sick,  so  I  rejoined  Miss  Grey  and 
Kemper,  who  had  found  a  green  cocoanut  and  were 
alternately  deriving  nourishment  from  the  milk  in 
side  it. 

Somehow  or  other  there  seemed  to  me  a  certain 
levity  about  that  performance,  and  it  made  me  un 
comfortable  ;  but  I  managed  to  smile  a  rather  sickly 
smile  when  they  offered  me  a  draught,  and  I  took 
a  pull  at  the  milk — I  don't  exactly  know  why,  be 
cause  I  don't  like  it.  But  the  moon  was  up  over 
the  sea,  now,  and  the  dusk  was  languorously 
balmy,  and  I  didn't  care  to  leave  those  two  drink 
ing  milk  out  of  the  same  cocoanut  under  a  tropic 
moon. 

Not  that  my  interest  in  Evelyn  Grey  was  other 
than  scientific.  But  after  all  it  was  I  who  had  dis 
covered  her. 

We  sailed  as  soon  as  Grue,  gobbling  and  snuf 
fling,  had  cleaned  up  the  last  crumb  of  food.  Kem 
per  blandly  offered  to  take  Miss  Grey  into  his  boat, 
saying  that  he  feared  my  boat  was  overcrowded, 
what  with  the  paraphernalia,  the  folding  cages, 
Grue,  Miss  Grey,  and  myself. 

36 


The  Third  Eye 


I  sat  on  that  suggestion,  but  offered  to  take  my 
own  tiller  and  lend  him  Grue.  He  couldn't  wriggle 
out  of  it,  seeing  that  his  alleged  motive  had  been 
the  overcrowding  of  my  boat,  but  he  looked  rather 
sick  when  Grue  went  aboard  his  boat. 

As  for  me,  I  hoisted  sail  with  something  so  near 
a  chuckle  that  it  surprised  me;  and  I  looked  at 
Evelyn  Grey  to  see  whether  she  had  noticed  the  un 
seemly  symptom. 

Apparently  she  had  not.  She  sat  forward,  her 
eyes  fixed  soul  fully  upon  the  moon.  Had  I  been 
dedicated  to  any  profession  except  a  scientific  one 
— but  let  that  pass. 

Grue  in  Kemper's  sail-boat  led,  and  my  boat 
followed  out  into  the  silvery  and  purple  dusk, 
now  all  sparkling  under  the  high  lustre  of  the 
moon. 

Dimly  I  saw  vast  rafts  of  wild  duck  part  and 
swim  leisurely  away  to  port  and  starboard,  leaving 
a  glittering  lane  of  water  for  us  to  sail  through; 
into  the  scintillant  night  from  the  sea  sprang  mullet, 
silvery,  quivering,  falling  back  into  the  wash  with 
a  splash. 

Here  and  there  in  the  moonlight  steered  ominous 

37 


Police!  !  ! 


black  triangles,  circling  us,  leading  us,  sheer 
ing  across  bow  and  flashing  wake,  all  phosphor 
escent  with  lambent  sea-fire — the  fins  of  great 
sharks. 

"You  need  have  no  fear,"  said  I  to  the  pretty 
waitress. 

She  said  nothing. 

"Of  course  if  you  are  afraid,"  I  added,  "per 
haps  you  might  care  to  change  your  seat." 

There  was  room  in  the  stern  where  I  sat. 

"Do  you  think  there  is  any  danger?"  she  asked. 

"From  sharks?" 

"Yes." 

"Reaching  up  and  biting  you?" 

"Yes." 

"Oh,  I  don't  really  suppose  there  is,"  I  said, 
managing  to  convey  the  idea,  I  am  ashamed  to  say, 
that  the  catastrophe  was  a  possibility. 

She  came  over  and  seated  herself  beside  me.  I 
was  very  much  ashamed  of  myself,  but  I  could  not 
repress  a  triumphant  glance  ahead  at  the  other  boat, 
where  Kemper  sat  huddled  forward,  evidently 
bored  to  extinction. 

Every  now  and  then  I  could  see  him  turn  and 

38 


The  Third  Eye 


crane  his  neck  as  though  in  an  effort  to  distinguish 
what  was  going  on  in  our  boat. 

There  was  nothing  going  on,  absolutely  nothing. 
The  moon  was  magnificent;  and  I  think  the  pretty 
waitress  must  have  been  a  little  tired,  for  her  head 
drooped  and  nodded  at  moments,  even  while  I  was 
talking  to  her  about  a  specimen  of  Euplectilla  sped- 
osa  on  which  I  had  written  a  monograph.  So  she 
must  have  been  really  tired,  for  the  subject  was  in 
teresting. 

"You  won't  incommode  my  operations  with  sheet 
and  tiller,"  I  said  to  her  kindly,  "if  you  care  to  rest 
your  head  against  my  shoulder." 

Evidently  she  was  very  tired,  for  she  did  so,  and 
closed  her  eyes. 

After  a  while,  fearing  that  she  might  fall  over 
backward  into  the  sea — but  let  that  pass.  ...  I 
don't  know  whether  or  not  Kemper  could  distin 
guish  anything  aboard  our  boat.  He  craned  his 
head  enough  to  twist  it  off  his  neck. 

To  be  so  utterly,  so  blindly  devoted  to  science 
is  a  great  safeguard  for  a  man.  Single-minded- 
ness,  however,  need  not  induce  atrophy  of  every 
humane  impulse.  I  drew  the  pretty  waitress  closer 

39 


Police!  !  ! 


— not  that  the  night  was  cold,  but  it  might  become 
so.  Changes  in  the  tropics  come  swiftly.  It  is 
well  to  be  prepared. 

Her  cheek  felt  very  soft  against  my  shoulder. 
There  seemed  to  be  a  faint  perfume  about  her  hair. 
It  really  was  odd  how  subtly  fragrant  she  seemed 
to  be — almost,  perhaps,  a  matter  of  scientific  in 
terest. 

Her  hands  did  not  seem  to  be  chilled;  they  did 
seem  unusually  smooth  and  soft. 

I  said  to  her :  "When  at  home,  I  suppose  your 
mother  tucks  you  in;  doesn't  she?" 

"Yes,"  she  nodded  sleepily. 

"And  what  does  she  do  then  ?"  said  I,  with  some 
thing  of  that  ponderous  playfulness  with  which  I 
make  scientific  jokes  at  a  meeting  of  the  Bronx  An 
thropological  Association,  when  'I  preside. 

"She  kisses  me  and  turns  out  the  light,"  said 
Evelyn  Grey,  innocently. 

I  don't  know  how  much  Kemper  could  distin 
guish.  He  kept  dodging  about  and  twisting  his 
head  until  I  really  thought  it  would  come  off,  un 
less  it  had  been  screwed  on  like  the  top  of  a  piano 
stool. 

40 


The  Third  Eye 


A  few  minutes  later  he  fired  his  pistol  twice ;  and 
Evelyn  sat  up.  I  never  knew  why  he  fired;  he 
never  offered  any  explanation. 

Toward  midnight  I  could  hear  the  roar  of 
breakers  on  our  starboard  bow.  Evelyn  heard 
them,  too,  and  sat  up  inquiringly. 

"Grue  has  found  the  inlet  to  Black  Bayou,  I 
suppose,"  said  I. 

And  it  proved  to  be  the  case,  for,  with  the  surf 
thundering  on  either  hand,  we  sailed  into  a 
smoothly  flowing  inlet  through  which  the  flood  tide 
was  running  between  high  dunes  all  sparkling  in 
the  moonlight  and  crowned  with  shadowy  palms. 

Occasionally  I  heard  noises  ahead  of  us  from  the 
other  boat,  as  though  Kemper  was  trying  to  con 
verse  with  us,  but  as  his  apropos  was  as  unintel 
ligible  as  it  was  inopportune,  I  pretended  not  to 
hear  him.  Besides,  I  had  all  I  could  do  to  ma 
noeuvre  the  tiller  and  prevent  Evelyn  Grey  from 
falling  off  backward  into  the  bayou.  Besides,  it 
is  not  customary  to  converse  with  the  man  at  the 
helm. 

After  a  while — during  which  I  seemed  to  dis 
tinguish  in  Kemper's  voice  a  quality  that  rhymes 


Police!  !  ! 


with  his  name — his  tones  varied  through  phases  all 
the  way  from  irony  to  exasperation.  After  a  while 
he  gave  it  up  and  took  to  singing. 

There  was  a  moon,  and  I  suppose  he  thought  he 
had  a  voice.  'It  didn't  strike  me  so.  After  several 
somewhat  melancholy  songs,  he  let  off  his  pistol 
two  or  three  times  and  then  subsided  into  silence. 

I  didn't  care;  neither  his  songs  nor  his  shots  in 
terrupted — but  let  that  pass,  also. 

We  were  now  sailing  into  the  forest  through 
pool  after  pool  of  interminable  lagoons,  startling 
into  unseen  and  clattering  flight  hundreds  of  water 
fowl.  I  could  feel  the  wind  from  their  whistling 
wings  in  the  darkness,  as  they  drove  by  us  out  to 
sea.  It  seemed  to  startle  the  pretty  waitress.  It 
is  a  solemn  thing  to  be  responsible  for  a  pretty 
girl's  peace  of  mind.  I  reassured  her  continually, 
perhaps  a  trifle  nervously.  But  there  were  no  more 
pistol  shots.  Perhaps  Kemper  had  used  up  his 
cartridges. 

We  were  still  drifting  along  under  drooping  sails, 
borne  inland  almost  entirely  by  the  tide,  when  the 
first  pale,  watery,  gray  light  streaked  the  east. 
When  it  grew  a  little  lighter,  Evelyn  sat  up;  all 

42 


The  Third  Eye 


danger  of  sharks  being  over.  Also,  I  could  begin 
to  see  what  was  going  on  in  the  other  boat.  Which 
was  nothing  remarkable;  Kemper  slumped  against 
the  mast,  his  head  turned  in  our  direction;  Grue 
sat  at  the  helm,  motionless,  his  tattered  straw  hat 
sagging  on  his  neck. 

When  the  sun  rose,  I  called  out  cheerily  to  Kem 
per,  asking  him  how  he  had  passed  the  night.  Eve 
lyn  also  raised  her  head,  pausing  while  bringing 
her  disordered  hair  under  discipline,  to  listen  to  his 
reply. 

But  he  merely  mumbled  something.  Perhaps  he 
was  still  sleepy. 

As  for  me,  I  felt  exceedingly  well;  and  when 
Grue  turned  his  craft  in  shore,  I  did  so,  too;  and 
when,  under  the  overhanging  foliage  of  the  forest, 
the  nose  of  my  boat  grated  on  the  sand,  I  rose  and 
crossed  the  deck  with  a  step  distinctly  frolicsome. 

Kemper  seemed  distant  and  glum;  Evelyn  Grey 
spoke  to  him  shyly  now  and  then,  and  I  noticed 
she  looked  at  him  only  when  he  was  gazing  else 
where  than  at  her.  She  had  a  funny,  conciliatory 
air  with  him,  half  ashamed,  partly  humorous  and 
amused,  as  though  something  about  Kemper's 

43 


Police!  !  ! 


sulky  ill-humour  was  continually  making  tiny  in 
roads  on  her  gravity. 

Some  mullet  had  jumped  into  the  two  boats — 
half  a  dozen  during  our  moonlight  voyage — and 
these  were  now  being  fried  with  rice  for  us  by 
Grue.  Lord !  How  I  hated  to  eat  them ! 

After  we  had  finished  breakfast,  Grue,  as  usual, 
did  everything  to  the  remainder  except  to  get  into 
the  fry-pan  with  both  feet ;  and  as  usual  he  sickened 
me. 

When  he'd  cleaned  up  everything,  I  sent  him  off 
into  the  forest  to  find  a  dry  shell-mound  for  camp 
ing  purposes;  then  I  made  fast  both  boats,  and 
Kemper  and  I  carried  ashore  our  paraphernalia, 
spare  batterie-de-cuisine,  firearms,  fishing  tackle, 
spears,  harpoons,  grains,  oars,  sails,  spars,  folding 
cage — everything  with  which  a  strictly  scientific 
expedition  is  usually  burdened. 

Evelyn  was  washing  her  face  in  the  crystal 
waters  of  a  branch  that  flowed  into  the  lagoon  from 
under  the  live-oaks.  She  looked  very  pretty  doing 
it,  like  a  naiad  or  dryad  scrubbing  away  at  her 
forest  toilet. 

It  was,  in  fact,  such  a  pretty  spectacle  that  I  was 

44 


The  Third  Eye 


going  over  to  sit  beside  her  while  she  did  it,  but 
Kemper  started  just  when  I  was  going  to,  and  I 
turned  away.  Some  men  invariably  do  the  wrong 
thing.  But  a  handsome  man  doesn't  last  long  with 
a  pretty  girl. 

I  was  thinking  of  this  as  I  stood  contemplating 
an  alligator  slide,  when  Grue  came  back  saying  that 
the  shore  on  which  we  had  landed  was  the  termina 
tion  of  a  shell-mound,  and  that  it  was  the  only  dry 
place  be  had  found. 

So  I  bade  him  pitch  our  tents  a  few  feet  back 
from  the  shore;  and  stood  watching  him  while  he 
did  so,  one  eye  reverting  occasionally  to  Evelyn 
Grey  and  Kemper.  They  both  were  seated  cross- 
legged  beside  the  branch,  and  they  seemed  to  be 
talking  a  great  deal  and  rather  earnestly.  I 
couldn't  quite  understand  what  they  found  to  talk 
about  so  earnestly  and  volubly  all  of  a  sudden,  in 
asmuch  as  they  had  heretofore  exchanged  very  few 
observations  during  a  most  brief  and  formal  ac 
quaintance,  dating  only  from  sundown  the  day  be 
fore. 

Grue  set  up  our  three  tents,  carried  the  lug 
gage  inland,  and  then  hung  about  for  a  while  un- 

5  45 


Police!  !  ! 


til  the  vast  shadow  of  a  vulture  swept  across  the 
trees. 

I  never  saw  such  an  indescribable  expression  on 
a  human  face  as  I  saw  on  Grue's  as  he  looked  up  at 
the  huge,  unclean  bird.  His  vitreous  eyes  fairly 
glittered;  the  corners  of  his  mouth  quivered  and 
grew  wet;  and  to  my  astonishment  he  seemed  to 
emit  a  low,  mewing  noise. 

"What  the  devil  are  you  doing?"  I  said  impul 
sively,  in  my  amazement  and  disgust. 

He  looked  at  me,  his  eyes  still  glittering,  the  cor 
ners  of  his  mouth  still  wet;  but  the  curious  sounds 
had  ceased. 

"What?"  he  asked. 

"Nothing.  I  thought  you  spoke."  I  didn't 
know  what  else  to  say. 

He  made  no  reply.  Once,  when  I  had  partly 
turned  my  head,  I  was  aware  that  he  was  warily 
turning  his  to  look  at  the  vulture,  which  had  alighted 
heavily  on  the  ground  near  the  entrails  and  heads 
of  the  mullet,  where  he  had  cast  them  on  the  dead 
leaves. 

I  walked  over  to  where  Evelyn  Grey  and  Kem- 
per  sat  so  busily  conversing;  and  their  volubility 


The  Third  Eye 


ceased  as  they  glanced  up  and  saw  me  approaching. 
Which  phenomenon  both  perplexed  and  displeased 
me. 

I  said : 

"This  is  the  Black  Bayou  forest,  and  we  have 
the  most  serious  business  of  our  lives  before  us. 
Suppose  you  and  I  start  out,  Kemper,  and  see  if 
there  are  any  traces  of  what  we  are  after  in  the 
neighborhood  of  our  camp." 

"Do  you  think  it  safe  to  leave  Miss  Grey  alone 
in  camp?"  he  asked  gravely. 

I  hadn't  thought  of  that: 

"No,  of  course  not,"  I  said.     "Grue  can  stay." 

"I  don't  need  anybody,"  she  said  quickly.  "Any 
way,  I'm  rather  afraid  of  Grue." 

"Afraid  of  Grue?"  I  repeated. 

"Not  exactly  afraid.     But  he's — unpleasant." 

"I'll  remain  with  Miss  Grey,"  said  Kemper  po 
litely. 

"Oh,"  she  exclaimed,  "I  couldn't  ask  that.  It  is 
true  that  I  feel  a  little  tired  and  nervous,  but  I  can 
go  with  you  and  Mr.  Smith  and  Grue " 

I  surveyed  Kemper  in  cold  perplexity.  As  chief 
of  the  expedition,  I  couldn't  very  well  offer  to  re- 

47 


Police!  !  ! 


main  with  Evelyn  Grey,  but  I  didn't  propose  that 
Kemper  should,  either. 

"Take  Grue,"  he  suggested,  "and  look  about  the 
woods  for  a  while.  Perhaps  after  dinner  Miss 
Grey  may  feel  sufficiently  rested  to  join  us." 

"I  am  sure,"  she  said,  "that  a  few  hours'  rest  in 
camp  will  set  me  on  my  feet.  All  I  need  is  rest. 
I  didn't  sleep  very  soundly  last  night." 

I  felt  myself  growing  red,  and  I  looked  away 
from  them  both. 

"Oh,"  said  Kemper,  in  apparent  surprise,  "I 
thought  you  had  slept  soundly  all  night  long." 

"Nobody,"  said  I,  "could  have  slept  very  pleas 
antly  during  that  musical  performance  of  yours." 

"Were  you  singing?"  she  asked  innocently  of 
Kemper. 

"He  was  singing  when  he  wasn't  firing  off  his 
pistol,"  I  remarked.  "No  wonder  you  couldn't 
sleep  with  any  satisfaction  to  yourself." 

Grue  had  disappeared  into  the  forest;  I  stood 
watching  for  him  to  come  out  again.  After  a  few 
minutes  I  heard  a  furious  but  distant  noise  of  flap 
ping;  the  others  also  heard  it;  and  we  listened  in 
silence,  wondering  what  it  was. 


The  Third  Eye 


"It's  Grue  killing  something,"  faltered  Evelyn 
Grey,  turning  a  trifle  pale. 

"Confound  it !"  I  exclaimed.  "I'm  going  to  stop 
that  right  now." 

Kemper  rose  and  followed  me  as  I  started  for 
the  woods ;  but  as  we  passed  the  beached  boats  Grue 
appeared  from  among  the  trees. 

"Where  have  you  been?"  I  demanded. 

"In  the  woods." 

"Doing  what?" 

"Nothing." 

There  was  a  bit  of  down  here  and  there  clinging 
to  his  cotton  shirt  and  trousers,  and  one  had  caught 
and  stuck  at  the  corner  of  his  mouth. 

"See  here,  Grue,"  I  said,  "I  don't  want  you  to 
kill  any  birds  except  for  camp  purposes.  Why  do 
you  try  to  catch  and  kill  birds?" 

"I  don't." 

I  stared  at  the  man  and  he  stared  back  at  me 
out  of  his  glassy  eyes. 

"You  mean  to  say  that  you  don't,  somehow  or 
other,  manage  to  catch  and  kill  birds?" 

"No,  I  don't." 

There  was  nothing  further  for  me  to  say  unless 

49 


Police!  I ! 


I  gave  him  the  lie.  I  didn't  care  to  do  that,  need 
ing  his  services. 

Evelyn  Grey  had  come  up  to  join  us;  there  was 
a  brief  silence;  we  all  stood  looking  at  Grue;  and 
he  looked  back  at  us  out  of  his  pale,  washed-out, 
and  unblinking  eyes. 

"Grue,"  I  said,  "I  haven't  yet  explained  to  you 
the  object  of  this  expedition  to  Black  Bayou. 
Now,  I'll  tell  you  what  I  want.  But  first  let  me 
ask  you  a  question  or  two.  You  know  the  Black 
Bayou  forests,  don't  you  ?" 

"Yes." 

"Did  you  ever  see  anything  unusual  in  these 
forests?" 

"No." 

"Are  you  sure  ?" 

The  man  stared  at  us,  one  after  another.  Then 
he  said : 

"What  are  you  looking  for  in  Black  Bayou?" 

"Something  very  curious,  very  strange,  very  un 
usual.  So  strange  and  unusual,  in  fact,  that  the 
great  Zoological  Society  of  the  Bronx  in  New  York 
has  sent  me  down  here  at  the  head  of  this  expedi 
tion  to  search  the  forests  of  Black  Bayou." 

50 


The  Third  Eye 


"For  what?"  he  demanded,  in  a  dull,  accentless 
voice. 

"For  a  totally  new  species  of  human  being,  Grue. 
I  wish  to  catch  one  and  take  it  back  to  New  York  in 
that  folding  cage." 

His  green  eyes  had  grown  narrow  as  though  sun- 
dazzled.  Kemper  had  stepped  behind  us  into  the 
woods  and  was  now  busy  setting  up  the  folding 
cage.  Grue  remained  motionless. 

"I  am  going  to  offer  you,"  I  said,  "the  sum  of 
one  thousand  dollars  in  gold  if  you  can  guide  us  to 
a  spot  where  we  may  see  this  hitherto  unknown 
species — a  creature  which  is  apparently  a  man  but 
which  has,  in  the  back  of  his  head,  a  third  eye " 

I  paused  in  amazement:  Grue's  cheeks  had  sud 
denly  puffed  out  and  were  quivering ;  and  from  the 
corners  of  his  slitted  mouth  he  was  emitting  a 
whimpering  sound  like  the  noise  made  by  a  low- 
circling  pigeon. 

"Grue !"  I  cried.     "What's  the  matter  with  you  ?" 

"What  is  he  doing?"  screamed  Grue,  quivering 
from  head  to  foot,  but  not  turning  around. 

"Who?"  I  cried. 

"The  man  behind  me !" 


Police!  !  ! 


"Professor  Kemper?  He's  setting  up  the  fold 
ing  cage " 

With  a  screech  that  raised  my  hair,  Grue  whipped 
out  his  murderous  knife  and  hurled  himself  back 
ward  at  Kemper,  but  the  latter  shrank  aside  behind 
the  partly  erected  cage,  and  Grue  whirled  around, 
snarling,  hacking,  and  even  biting  at  the  wood 
frame  and  steel  bars. 

And  then  occurred  a  thing  so  horrid  that  it  sick 
ened  me  to  the  pit  of  my  stomach;  for  the  man's 
sagging  straw  hat  had  fallen  off,  and  there,  in  the 
back  of  his  head,  through  the  coarse,  black,  ratty 
hair,  I  saw  a  glassy  eye  glaring  at  me. 

"Kemper!"  I  shouted.  "He's  got  a  third  eye! 
He's  one  of  them!  Knock  him  flat  with  your  rifle- 
stock  !"  And  I  seized  a  shot-gun  from  the  top  of 
the  baggage  bundle  on  the  ground  beside  me, 
and  leaped  at  Grue,  aiming  a  terrific  blow  at 
him. 

But  the  glassy  eye  in  the  back  of  his  head  was 
watching  me  between  the  clotted  strands  of  hair, 
and  he  dodged  both  Kemper  and  me,  swinging  his 
heavy  knife  in  circles  and  glaring  at  us  both  out 
of  the  front  and  back  of  his  head. 

52 


The  Third  Eye 


Kemper  seized  him  by  his  arm,  but  Grue's  shirt 
came  off,  and  I  saw  his  entire  body  was  as  furry  as 
an  ape's.  And  all  the  while  he  was  snapping  at 
us  and  leaping  hither  and  thither  to  avoid  our 
blows;  and  from  the  corners  of  his  puffed  cheeks 
he  whined  and  whimpered  and  mewed  through  the 
saliva  foam. 

"Keep  him  from  the  water!"  I  panted,  following 
him  with  clubbed  shot-gun;  and  as  I  advanced  I 
almost  stepped  on  a  soiled  heap  of  foulness — the 
dead  buzzard  which  he  had  caught  and  worried 
to  death  with  his  teeth. 

Suddenly  he  threw  his  knife  at  my  head,  hurling 
it  backward;  dodged,  screeched,  and  bounded  by 
me  toward  the  shore  of  the  lagoon,  where  the  pretty 
waitress  was  standing,  petrified. 

For  one  moment  I  thought  he  had  her,  but  she 
picked  up  her  skirts,  ran  for  the  nearest  boat,  and 
seized  a  harpoon;  and  in  his  fierce  eagerness  to 
catch  her  he  leaped  clear  over  the  boat  and  fell  with 
a  splash  into  the  lagoon. 

As  Kemper  and  I  sprang  aboard  and  looked  over 
into  the  water,  we  could  see  him  going  down  out  of 
reach  of  a  harpoon;  and  his  body  seemed  to  be 

53 


Police!  !  ! 


silver-plated,  flashing  and  glittering  like  a  burnished 
eel,  so  completely  did  the  skin  of  air  envelope  him, 
held  there  by  the  fur  that  covered  him. 

And,  as  he  rested  for  a  moment  on  the  bottom, 
deep  down  through  the  clear  waters  of  the  lagoon 
where  he  lay  prone,  I  could  see,  as  the  current 
stirred  his  long,  black  hair,  the  third  eye  looking 
up  at  us,  glassy,  unwinking,  horrible. 

A  bubble  or  two,  like  globules  of  quicksilver,  were 
detached  from  the  burnished  skin  of  air  that  clothed 
him,  and  came  glittering  upward. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  flash;  a  flurrying  cloud  of 
blue  mud ;  and  Grue  was  gone. 

After  a  long  while  I  turned  around  in  the  mute 
ness  of  my  despair.  And  slowly  froze. 

For  the  pretty  waitress,  becomingly  pale,  was 
gathered  in  Kemper's  arms,  her  cheek  against  his 
shoulder.  Neither  seemed  to  be  aware  of  me. 

"Darling,"  he  said,  in  the  imbecile  voice  of  a 
man  in  love,  "why  do  you  tremble  so  when  I  am 
here  to  protect  you?  Don't  you  love  and  trust 
me?" 

54 


The  Third  Eye 


"Oo — h — yes,"  she  sighed,  pressing  her  cheek 
closer  to  his  shoulder. 

I  shoved  my  hands  into  my  pockets,  passed  them 
without  noticing  them,  and  stepped  ashore. 

And  there  I  sat  down  under  a  tree,  with  my 
back  toward  them,  all  alone  and  face  to  face  with 
the  greatest  grief  of  my  life. 

But  which  it  was — the  loss  of  her  or  the  loss  of 
Grue,  I  had  not  yet  made  up  my  mind. 


THE   IMMORTAL 


THE  IMMORTAL 


AS    everybody    knows,    the    great    majority 
of    Americans,    upon    reaching    the    age 
of   natural    selection,    are   elected   to   the 
American    Institute    of    Arts    and    Ethics,    which 

59 


Police!  !  t 


is,  so  to  speak,  the  Ellis  Island  of    the  Academy. 

Occasionally  a  general  mobilization  of  the  Acad 
emy  is  ordered  and,  from  the  teeming  population 
of  the  Institute,  a  new  Immortal  is  selected  for 
the  American  Academy  of  Moral  Endeavor  by  the 
simple  process  of  blindfolded  selection  from  Who's 
Which. 

The  motto  of  this  most  stately  of  earthly  institu 
tions  is  a  peculiarly  modest,  truthful,  and  uninten 
tional  epigram  by  Tupper : 

"Unknown,  I  became  Famous ;  Famous,  I  remain 
Unknown." 

And  so  I  found  it  to  be  the  case;  for,  when  at 
last  I  was  privileged  to  write  my  name,  "Smith, 
Academician,"  I  discovered  to  my  surprise  that 
I  knew  none  of  my  brother  Immortals,  and,  more 
amazing  still,  none  of  them  had  ever  heard  of  me. 

This  latter  fact  became  the  more  astonishing  to 
me  as  I  learned  the  identity  of  the  other  Immortals. 

Even  the  President  of  our  great  republic  was 
numbered  among  these  Olympians.  I  had  every 
right  to  suppose  that  he  had  heard  of  me.  I  had 
happened  to  hear  of  him,  because  his  Secretary  of 
State  once  mentioned  him  at  Chautauqua. 

60 


The  Immortal 


It  was  a  wonderfully  meaningless  sensation  to 
know  nobody  and  to  discover  myself  equally  un 
known  amid  that  matchless  companionship.  We 
were  like  a  mixed  bunch  of  gods,  Greek,  Norse, 
Hindu,  Hottentot — all  gathered  on  Olympus,  hav 
ing  never  heard  of  each  other  but  taking  it  for 
granted  that  we  were  all  gods  together  and  all 
members  of  this  club. 

My  initiation  into  the  Academy  had  been  fixed 
for  April  first,  and  I  was  much  worried  concern 
ing  the  address  which  I  was  of  course  expected 
to  deliver  on  that  occasion  before  my  fellow  mem 
bers. 

It  had  to  be  an  exciting  address  because  slumber 
was  not  an  infrequent  phenomenon  among  the  Im 
mortals  on  such  solemn  occasions.  Like  dozens  of 
dozing  Joves  a  dull  discourse  always  set  them  nod 
ding. 

But  always  under  such  circumstances  the  pretty 
ushers  from  Barnard  College  passed  around  re 
freshments;  a  suffragette  orchestra  struck  up;  the 
ushers  uprooted  the  seated  Immortals  and  fox 
trotted  them  into  comparative  consciousness. 

But  I  didn't  wish  to  have  my  inaugural  address 

6  61 


Police!  !  ! 


interrupted,  therefore  I  was  at  my  wits'  ends  to 
discover  a  subject  of  such  exciting  scientific  inter 
est  that  my  august  audience  could  not  choose  but 
listen  as  attentively  as  they  would  listen  from  the 
front  row  to  some  deathless  stunt  in  vaudeville. 

That  morning  I  had  left  the  Bronx  rather  early, 
hoping  that  a  long  walk  might  compose  my  thoughts 
and  enable  me  to  think  of  some  sufficiently  enter 
taining  and  unusual  subject  for  my  inaugural  ad 
dress. 

I  walked  as  far  as  Columbia  University,  gazed 
with  rapture  upon  its  magnificent  architecture  until 
I  was  as  satiated  as  though  I  had  arisen  from  a 
banquet  at  Childs'. 

To  aid  mental  digestion  I  strolled  over  to  the 
noble  home  of  the  Academy  and  'Institute  adjoin 
ing  Mr.  Huntington's  Hispano-Moresque  Museum. 

It  was  a  fine,  sunny  morning,  and  the  Immortals 
were  being  exercised  by  a  number  of  pretty  ushers 
from  Barnard. 

I  gazed  upon  the  impressive  procession  with  pride 
unutterable;  very  soon  I  also  should  walk  two  and 
two  in  the  sunshine,  my  dome  crowned  with  figura 
tive  laurels,  cracking  scientific  witticisms  with  my 

62 


The  Immortal 


fellow  inmates,  or,  perhaps,  squeezing  the  pretty 
fingers  of  some —  But  let  that  pass. 

I  was,  as  I  say,  gazing  upon  this  inspiring  scene 
on  a  beautiful  morning  in  February,  when  I  be 
came  aware  of  a  short  and  visibly  vulgar  person 
beside  me,  plucking  persistently  at  my  elbow. 

"Are  you  the  great  Academician,  Perfessor 
Smith?"  he  asked,  tipping  his  pearl-coloured  and 
somewhat  soiled  bowler. 

"Yes,"  I  said  condescendingly.  "Your  descrip 
tion  of  me  precludes  further  doubt.  What  can  I 
do  for  you,  my  good  man?" 

"Are  you  this  here  Perfessor  Smith  of  the  De 
partment  of  Anthropology  in  the  Bronx  Park  Zoo 
logical  Society?"  he  persisted. 

"What  do  you  desire  of  me?"  I  repeated,  taking 
another  look  at  him.  He  was  exceedingly  ordi 
nary. 

"Prof,  old  sport,"  he  said  cordially,  "I  took  a 
slant  at  the  papers  yesterday,  an'  I  seen  all  about 
the  big  time  these  guys  had  when  you  rode  the 
goat— 

"Rode— what?" 

"When  you  was  elected.     Get  me?" 

63 


Police!  1 1 


I  stared  at  him.     He  grinned  in  a  friendly  way. 

"The  privacy  of  those  solemn  proceedings  should 
remain  sacred.  It  were  unfit  to  discuss  such  matters 
with  the  world  at  large,"  I  said  coldly. 

"I  get  you,"  he  rejoined  cheerfully. 

"What  do  you  desire  of  me  ?"  I  repeated.  "Why 
this  unseemly  apropos?" 

"I  was  comin'  to  it.  Perfessor,  I'll  be  frank.  I 
need  money " 

"You  need  brains !" 

"No,"  he  said  good-humouredly,  "I've  got  'em; 
plenty  of  'em;  I'm  overstocked  with  idees.  What 
I  want  to  do  is  to  sell  you  a  few " 

"Do  you  know  you  are  impudent!" 

"Listen,  friend.  I  seen  a  piece  in  the  papers  as 
how  you  was  to  make  the  speech  of  your  life  when 
you  ride  the  goat  for  these  here  guys  on  April 
first " 

"I  decline  to  listen— 

"One  minute,  friend!  I  want  to  ask  you  one 
thing!  What  are  you  going  to  talk  about?" 

I  was  already  moving  away  but  I  stopped  and 
stared  at  him. 

"That's   the   question,"    he   nodded   with   unim- 

64 


The  Immortal 


paired  cheerfulness,  "what  are  you  going  to  talk 
about  on  April  the  first?  Remember  it's  the  hot- 
air  party  of  your  life.  J?<?£-member  that  each  an' 
every  paper  in  the  United  States  will  print  what  you 
say.  Now,  how  about  it,  friend?  Are  you  up  in 
your  lines?" 

Swallowing  my  repulsion  for  him  I  said :  "Why 
are  you  concerned  as  to  what  may  be  the  subject 
of  my  approaching  address?" 

"There  you  are,  Prof !"  he  exclaimed  delightedly ; 
"I  want  to  do  business  with  you.  That's  me !  I'm 
frank  about  it.  Say,  there  ought  to  be  a  wad  of 
the  joyful  in  it  for  us  both " 

"What?" 

"Sure.  We  can  work  it  any  old  way.  Take 
Tyng,  Tyng  and  Company,  the  typewriter  people. 
I'd  be  ashamed  to  tell  you  what  I  can  get  out  o' 
them  if  you'll  mention  the  Tyng-Tyng  typewriter 
in  your  speech " 

"What  you  suggest  is  infamous!"  I  said  haugh 
tily. 

"Believe  me  there's  enough  in  it  to  make  it  a 
financial  coup,  and  I  ask  you,  Prof,  isn't  a  financial 
coup  respectable?" 

65 


Police!  !  ! 


"You  seem  to  be  morally  unfitted  to  compre 
hend " 

"Pardon  me!  I'm  fitted  up  regardless  with  all 
kinds  of  fixtures.  I'm  fixed  to  undertake  anything. 
Now  if  you'd  prefer  the  Bunsen  Baby  Biscuit  bunch 
— why  old  man  Bunsen  would  come  across " 

"il  won't  do  such  things !"  I  said  angrily. 

"Very  well,  very  well.  Dont  get  riled,  sir. 
That's  only  one  way  to  build  on  Fifth  Avenoo. 
I've  got  one  hundred  thousand  other  ways " 

"I  don't  want  to  talk  to  you " 

"They're  honest — some  of  them.  Say,  if  you 
want  a  stric'ly  honest  deal  I've  got  the  goods.  Only 
it  ain't  as  easy  and  the  money  ain't  as  big " 

"I  don't  want  to  talk  to  you " 

"Yes  you  do.  You  don't  reelize  it  but  you  do. 
Why  you're  fixin'  to  make  the  holler  of  your  life, 
ain't  you?  What  are  you  goin'  to  say?  Hey? 
What  you  aimin'  to  say  to  make  those  guys  set 
up?  What's  the  use  of  up-stagin'?  Ain't  you 
willin'  to  pay  me  a  few  plunks  if  I  dy-vu\ge  to 
you  the  most  startlin'  phenomena  that  has  ever 
electrified  civilization  sense  the  era  of  P.  T.  Bar- 
num!" 

66 


The  Immortal 


I  was  already  hurrying  away  when  the  mention 
of  that  great  scientist's  name  halted  me  once  more. 

The  little  flashy  man  had  been  tagging  along  at 
my  heels,  talking  cheerfully  and  volubly  all  the 
while;  and  now,  as  I  halted  again,  he  struck  an 
attitude,  legs  apart,  thumbs  hooked  in  his  arm-pits, 
and  his  head  cocked  knowingly  on  one  side. 

"Prof,"  he  said,  "if  you'd  work  in  the  Tyng- 
Tyng  Company,  or  fix  it  up  with  Bunsen  to  men 
tion  his  Baby  Biscuits  as  the  most  nootritious  of 
condeements,  there'd  be  more  in  it  for  you  an'  me. 
But  it's  up  to  you." 

"Well  I  won't!"  I  retorted. 

"Very  well,  ve-ry  well,"  he  said  soothingly. 
"Then  look  over  another  line  o'  samples.  No 
trouble  to  show  'em — none  at  all,  sir!  Now  if  P. 
T.  Barnum  was  alive " 

I  said  very  seriously:  "The  name  of  that  great 
discoverer  falling  from  your  illiterate  lips  has  halted 
me  a  second  time.  His  name  alone  invests  your 
somewhat  suspicious  conversation  with  a  dignity 
and  authority  heretofore  conspicuously  absent.  If, 
as  you  hint,  you  have  any  scientific  information 
for  sale  which  P.  T.  Barnum  might  have  considered 

67 


Say,  listen,  Bo — I  mean,  Prof.     I've  got  the  goods/  " 


The  Immortal 


worth  purchasing,  you  may  possibly  find  in  me  a 
client.  Proceed,  young  sir." 

"Say,  listen,  Bo — I  mean,  Prof.  I've  got  the 
goods.  Don't  worry.  I've  got  information  in  my 
think-box  that  would  make  your  kick-in  speech  the 
event  of  the  century.  The  question  remains,  do  I 
get  mine  ?" 

"What  is  this  scientific  information?" 

We  had  now  walked  as  far  as  Riverside  Drive. 
There  were  plenty  of  unoccupied  benches.  I  sat 
down  and  he  seated  himself  beside  me. 

For  a  few  moments  I  gazed  upon  the  magnificent 
view.  Even  he  seemed  awed  by  the  proportions 
of  the  superb  iron  gas  tank  dominating  the  prospect. 

I  gazed  at  the  colossal  advertisements  across  the 
Hudson,  at  the  freight  trains  below;  I  gazed  upon 
the  lordly  Hudson  itself,  that  majestic  sewer  which 
drains  the  Empire  State,  bearing  within  its  resist 
less  flood  millions  of  tons  of  insoluble  matter  from 
that  magic  fairyland  which  we  call  "up-state,"  to 
the  sea.  And,  thinking  of  disposal  plants,  I  thought 
of  that  sublime  paraphrase — "From  the  Mohawk  to 
the  Hudson,  and  from  the  Hudson  to  the  Sea." 

"Bo,"  he  said,  "I  gotta  hand  it  to  you.     Them 

69 


Police!  !  ! 


guys  might  have  got  wise  if  you  had  worked  in  the 
Tyng-Tyng  Company  or  the  Bunsen  stuff.  There 
was  big  money  into  it,  but  it  might  not  have  went." 

I  waited  curiously. 

"But  this  here  dope  I'm  startin'  in  to  cook  for 
you  is  a  straight,  reelible,  an'  hones'  pill.  P.  T. 
Barnum  he  would  have  went  a  million  miles  to  see 
what  I  seen  last  Janooary  down  in  the  Coquina 
country " 

"Where  is  that?" 

"Say;  that's  what  costs  money  to  know.  When 
I  put  you  wise  I'm  due  to  retire  from  actyve  busi 
ness.  Get  me  ?" 

"Go  on." 

"Sure.  I  was  down  to  the  Coquina  country,  a- 
doin' — well,  I  was  doin'  rubes.  I  gotta  be  hones' 
with  you,  Prof.  That's  what  I  was  a-doin'  of — 
sellin'  farms  under  water  to  suckers.  Bee-u-tiful 
Florida!  Own  your  own  orange  grove.  Seven 
crops  o'  strawberries  every  winter  in  Gawd's  own 
country — get  me?" 

He  bestowed  upon  me  a  loathsome  wink. 

"Well,  it  went  big  till  I  made  a  break  and  got 
in  Dutch  with  the  Navy  Department  what  was  sur- 

70 


The  Immortal 


veyin'  the  Everglades  for  a  safe  and  sane  harbor 
of  refuge  for  the  navy  in  time  o'  war. 

"Sir,  they  was  a-dredgin'  up  the  farms  I  was 
selling  an'  the  suckers  heard  of  it  an'  squealed 
somethin'  fierce,  an'  I  had  to  hustle!  Yes,  sir,  I 
had  to  git  up  an'  mosey  cross-lots.  And  what  with 
the  Federal  Gov'ment  chasm'  me  one  way  an'  them 
rubes  an'  the  sheriff  of  Pickalocka  County  racin' 
me  t'other,  I  got  lost  for  fair — yes,  sir." 

He  smiled  reminiscently,  produced  from  his 
pockets  the  cold  and  offensive  remains  of  a  partly 
consumed  cigar,  and  examined  it  critically.  Then 
he  requested  a  match. 

"I  shall  now  pass  over  lightly  or  in  subdood 
silence  the  painful  events  of  my  flight,"  he  re 
marked,  waving  his  cigar  and  expelling-  a  long 
squirt  of  smoke  from  his  unshaven  lips.  "Surfice 
it  to  say  that  I  got  everythin'  that  was  comin'  to  me, 
an'  then  some,  what  with  snakes  and  murskeeters, 
an'  briers  an'  mud,  an'  hunger  an'  thirst  an'  heat. 
Wasn't  there  a  wop  named  Pizarro  or  somethin' 
what  got  lost  down  in  Florida?  Well,  he's  got 
nothin'  on  me.  I  never  want  to  see  the  dam'  state 
again.  But  I'll  go  back  if  you  say  so!" 


Police!  I ! 


His  small  rat  eyes  rested  musingly  upon  the 
river;  he  sucked  thoughtfully  at  his  cigar,  hooked 
one  soiled  thumb  into  the  armhole  of  his  fancy  vest 
and  crossed  his  legs. 

"To  resoom,"  he  said  cheerily;  "I  come  out  one 
day,  half  nood,  onto  the  banks  of  the  Miami  River. 
The  rest  was  a  pipe  after  what  I  had  went  through. 

"I  trimmed  a  guy  at  Miami,  got  clothes  and  rail 
road  fare,  an'  ducked. 

"Now  the  valyble  portion  of  my  discourse  is  this 
here  partial  information  concernin'  what  I  seen — 
or  rather  what  I  run  onto  durin'  my  crool  flight 
from  my  ree-lentless  persecutors. 

"An'  these  here  is  the  facts:  There  is,  contrary 
to  maps,  Coast  Survey  guys,  an'  general  opinion, 
a  range  of  hills  in  Florida,  made  entirely  of  co- 
quina. 

"It's  a  good  big  range,  too,  fifty  miles  long  an' 
anywhere  from  one  to  five  miles  acrost. 

"An'  what  'I've  got  to  say  is  this :  Into  them  there 
Coquina  hills  there  still  lives  the  expirin'  remains 
of  the  cave-men " 

"What!"  I  exclaimed  incredulously. 

"Or,"    he    continued    calmly,    "to    speak    more 

72 


The  Immortal 


stric'ly,  the  few  individools  of  that  there  expirin' 
race  is  now  totally  reduced  to  a  few  women." 

"Your  statement  is  wild " 

"No;  but  they're  wild.  I  seen  'em.  Bein'  ex- 
treemly  bee-utiful  I  approached  nearer,  but  they 
hove  rocks  at  me,  they  did,  an'  they  run  into  the 
rocks  like  squir'ls,  they  did,  an'  I  was  too  much  on 
the  blink  to  stick  around  whistlin'  for  dearie. 

"But  I  seen  'em;  they  was  all  dolled  up  in  the 
skins  of  wild  annermals.  When  I  see  the  first  one 
she  was  eatin'  onto  a  ear  of  corn,  an'  I  nearly 
ketched  her,  but  she  run  like  hellnall — yes,  sir.  Just 
like  that. 

"So  next  I  looked  for  some  cave  guy  to  waltz 
up  an'  paste  me,  but  no.  An'  after  I  had  went 
through  them  dam'  Coquina  mountains  I  reelized 
that  there  was  nary  a  guy  left  in  this  here  ex 
pirin'  race,  only  women,  an'  only  about  a  dozen  o' 
them." 

He  ceased,  meditatively  expelled  a  cloud  of  pun 
gent  smoke,  and  folded  his  arms. 

"Of  course,"  said  I  with  a  sneer,  "you  have 
proofs  to  back  your  pleasant  tale?" 

"Sure.      I  made  a  map." 

73 


Police!  !  I 


UI  see,"  said  I  sarcastically.  "You  propose  to 
have  me  pay  you  for  that  map?" 

"Sure." 

"How  much,  my  confiding  friend  ?" 

"Ten  thousand  plunks." 

I  began  to  laugh.  He  laughed,  too :  "You'll  pay 
'em  if  you  take  my  map  an'  go  to  the  Coquina  hills," 
he  said. 

I  stopped  laughing :  "Do  you  mean  that  I  am  to 
go  there  and  investigate  before  I  pay  you  for  this 
information?" 

"Sure.  If  the  goods  ain't  up  to  sample  the  deal 
is  off." 

"Sample?  What  sample?"  I  demanded  deri 
sively. 

He  made  a  gesture  with  one  soiled  hand  as  though 
quieting  a  balky  horse. 

"I  took  a  snapshot,  friend.  You  wanta  take  a 
slant  at  it?" 

"You  took  a  photograph  of  one  of  these  alleged 
cave-dwellers?" 

"I  took  ten  but  when  these  here  cave-ladies  hove 
rocks  at  me  the  fillums  was  put  on  the  blink — all 
excep'  this  one  which  I  dee-veloped  an'  printed." 

74 


The  Immortal 


He  drew  from  his  inner  coat  pocket  a  photograph 
and  handed  it  to  me — the  most  amazing  photo 
graph  I  ever  gazed  upon.  Astounded,  almost  con 
vinced  I  sat  looking  at  this  irrefutable  evidence  in 
silence.  The  smoke  of  his  cigar  drifting  into  my 
face  aroused  me  from  a  sort  of  dazed  inertia. 

"Listen,"  I  said,  half  strangled,  "are  you  willing 
to  wait  for  payment  until  -I  personally  have  verified 
the  existence  of  these — er — creatures  ?" 

"You  betcher!  When  you  have  went  there  an' 
have  saw  the  goods,  just  let  me  have  mine  if  they're 
up  to  sample.  Is  that  right?" 

"It  seems  perfectly  fair." 

"It  is  fair.  I  wouldn't  try  to  do  a  scientific 
guy — no,  sir.  Me  without  no  eddycation,  only 
brains?  Fat  chance  I'd  have  to  put  one  over  on  a 
Academy  sport  what's  chuck-a-block  with  Latin  an' 
Greek  an'  scientific  stuff  an'  all  like  that!" 

I  admitted  to  myself  that  he'd  stand  no  chance. 

"Is  it  ago?"  he  asked. 

"Where  is  the  map?"  I  inquired,  trembling  in 
ternally  with  excitement. 

"Ha— ha!"  he  said.  "Listen  to  my  mirth! 
The  map  is  inside  here,  old  sport!"  and  he  tapped 

75 


Police!  !  ! 


his  retreating  forehead  with  one  nicotine-stained 
finger. 

"I  see,"  said  I,  trying  to  speak  carelessly;  "you 
desire  to  pilot  me." 

"I  don't  desire  to  but  I  gotta  go  with  you." 

"An  accurate  map " 

"Can  it,  old  sport!  A  accurate  map  is  all  right 
when  it's  pasted  over  the  front  of  your  head  for  a 
face.  But  I  wear  the  other  kind  of  map  inside  me 
conk.  Get  me?" 

"I  confess  that  I  do  not." 

"Well,  get  this,  then.  It's  a  cash  deal.  If  the 
goods  is  up  to  sample  you  hand  me  mine  then 
an'  there.  I  don't  deliver  no  goods  f.o.b.  I  shows 
'em  to  you.  After  you  have  saw  them  it's  up 
to  you  to  round  'em  up.  That's  all,  as  they  say 
when  our  great  President  pulls  a  gun.  There 
ain't  goin'  to  be  no  shootin';  walk  out  quietly, 
ladies!" 

After  I  had  sat  there  for  fully  ten  minutes  star 
ing  at  him  I  came  to  the  only  logical  conclusion  pos 
sible  to  a  scientific  mind. 

I  said :  "You  are,  admittedly,  unlettered ;  you  are 
confessedly  a  chevalier  of  industry;  personally  you 


The  Immortal 


are  exceedingly  distasteful  to  me.  -  But  it  is  useless 
to  deny  that  you  are  the  most  extraordinary  man 
I  ever  saw.  .  .  .  How  soon  can  you  take  me  to 
these  Coquina  hills?" 

"Gimme  twenty-four  hours  to — fix  things,"  he 
said  gaily. 

"Is  that  all?" 

"It's  plenty,  I  guess.     An' — say!" 

"What?" 

"It's  a  stric'ly  cash  deal.     Get  me  ?" 

"I  shall  have  with  me  a  certified  check  for  ten 
thousand  dollars.  Also  a  pair  of  automatics." 

He  laughed:  "Huh!"  he  said,  "I  could  loco 
your  cabbage-palm  soup  if  I  was  that  kind!  I'm 
on  the  level,  Perfessor.  If  I  wasn't  I  could  get  you 
in  about  a  hundred  styles  while  you  was  blinkin* 
at  what  you  was  a-thinkin'  about.  But  I  ain't  no 
gun-man.  You  hadn't  oughta  pull  that  stuff  on 
me.  I've  give  you  your  chanst ;  take  it  or  leave  it." 

I  pondered  profoundly  for  another  ten  minutes. 
And  at  last  my  decision  was  irrevocably  reached. 

"It's  a  bargain,"  I  said  firmly.  "What  is  your 
name?" 

"Sam  Mink.     Write  it  Samuel  onto  that  there 


Police!  !  ! 


certyfied  check — if  you  can  spare  the  extra  seconds 
from  your  valooble  time." 


II 


ON  Monday,  the  first  day  of  March,  1915, 
about  10:30  A.  M.,  we  came  in  sight  of 
something  which,  until  I  had  met  Mink,  I 
never  had  dreamed  existed  in  southern  Florida — a 
high  range  of  hills. 

It  had  been  an  eventless  journey  from  New  York 
to  Miami,  from  Miami  to  Fort  Coquina;  but  from 
there  through  an  absolutely  pathless  wilderness  as 
far  as  I  could  make  out,  the  journey  had  been  ex 
asperating. 

Where  we  went  I  do  not  know  even  now:  saw- 
grass  and  water,  hammock  and  shell  mound,  palm 
forests,  swamps,  wildernesses  of  water-oak  and  live- 
oak,  vast  stretches  of  pine,  lagoons,  sloughs, 
branches,  muddy  creeks,  reedy  reaches  from  which 
wild  fowl  rose  in  clouds  where  alligators  lurked  or 
lumbered  about  after  stranded  fish,  horrible  man 
grove  thickets  full  of  moccasins  and  water-turkeys, 
heronry  more  horrible  still,  out  of  which  the  heat 

78 


The  Immortal 


from  a  vertical  sun  distilled  the  last  atom  of  nauseat 
ing  effluvia — all  these  choice  spots  we  visited  under 
the  guidance  of  the  wretched  Mink.  I  seemed  to  be 
missing  nothing  that  might  discourage  or  disgust 
me. 

He  appeared  to  know  the  way,  somehow,  al 
though  my  compass  became  mysteriously  lost  the 
first  day  out  from  Fort  Coquina. 

Again  and  again  I  felt  instinctively  that  we  were 
travelling  in  a  vast  circle,  but  Mink  always  denied 
it,  and  I  had  no  scientific  instruments  to  verify  my 
deepening  suspicions. 

Another  thing  bothered  me :  Mink  did  not  seem 
to  suffer  from  insects  or  heat;  in  fact,  to  my  in 
tense  annoyance,  he  appeared  to  be  having  a  com 
fortable  time  of  it,  eating  and  drinking  with  gusto, 
sleeping  snugly  under  a  mosquito  bar,  permitting 
me  to  do  all  camp  work,  the  paddling  as  long  as 
we  used  a  canoe,  and  all  the  cooking,  too,  claim 
ing,  on  his  part,  a  complete  ignorance  of  culinary 
art. 

Sometimes  he  condescended  to  catch  a  few  fish 
for  the  common  pan;  sometimes  he  bestirred  him 
self  to  shoot  a  duck  or  two.  But  usually  he  played 

79 


Police!  !  ! 


on  his  concertina  during  his  leisure  moments  which 
were  plentiful. 

I  began  to  detest  Samuel  Mink. 

At  first  I  was  murderously  suspicious  of  him,  and 
I  walked  about  with  my  automatic  arsenal  ostenta 
tiously  displayed.  But  he  looked  like  such  a  miser 
able  little  shrimp  that  I  became  ashamed  of  my  pre 
cautions.  Besides,  as  he  cheerfully  pointed  out,  a 
little  koonti  soaked  in  my  drinking  water,  would 
have  done  my  business  for  me  if  he  had  meant  me 
any  physical  harm.  Also  he  had  a  horrid  habit  of 
noosing  moccasins  for  sport;  and  it  would  have 
been  easy  for  him  to  introduce  one  to  me  while  I 
slept. 

Really  what  most  worried  me  was  the  feeling 
which  I  could  not  throw  off  that  somehow  or  other 
we  were  making  very  little  progress  in  any  particu 
lar  direction. 

He  even  admitted  that  there  was  reason  for  my 
doubts,  but  he  confided  to  me  that  to  find  these 
Coquina  hills,  was  like  traversing  a  maze.  Dou 
bling  to  and  fro  among  forests  and  swamps,  he  in 
sisted,  was  the  only  possible  path  of  access  to  the 
undiscovered  Coquina  hills  of  Florida.  Otherwise, 

80 


The  Immortal 


he  argued,  these  Coquina  hills  would  long  ago  have 
been  discovered. 

And  it  seemed  to  me  that  he  had  been  right  when 
at  last  we  came  out  on  the  edge  of  a  palm  forest  and 
beheld  that  astounding  blue  outline  of  hills  in  a 
country  which  has  always  been  supposed  to  lie  as 
flat  as  a  flabby  flap- jack. 

A  desert  of  saw-palmetto  stretched  away  before 
us  to  the  base  of  the  hills ;  game  trails  ran  through 
it  in  every  direction  like  sheep  paths;  a  few  moth- 
eaten  Florida  deer  trotted  away  as  we  appeared. 

Into  one  of  these  trails  stepped  Samuel  Mink, 
burdened  only  with  his  concertina  and  a  box  of 
cigars.  I,  loaded  with  seventy  pounds  of  impedi 
menta  including  a  moving-picture  apparatus,  reeled 
after  him. 

He  walked  on  jauntily  toward  the  hills,  his  pearl- 
coloured  bowler  hat  at  an  angle.  Occasionally  he 
played  upon  his  concertina  as  he  advanced ;  now  and 
then  he  cut  a  pigeon  wing.  I  hated  him.  At  every 
toilsome  step  I  hated  him  more  deeply.  He  played 
"Tipperary"  on  his  concertina. 

"See  'em,  old  top?"  he  inquired,  nodding  toward 
the  hills.  "I'm  a  man  of  my  word,  I  am.  Look  at 

81 


Police!  !  ! 


'em!  Take  'em  in,  old  sport!  An'  reemember, 
each  an'  every  hill  is  guaranteed  to  contain  one  bony 
fidy  cave-lady  what  is  the  last  vanishin'  traces  of  a 
extinc'  an'  dissappeerin'  race!" 

We  toiled  on — that  is,  I  did,  bowed  under  my 
sweating  load  of  paraphernalia.  He  skipped  in  ad 
vance  like  some  degenerate  twentieth  century  faun, 
playing  on  his  pipes  the  unmitigated  melodies  of 
George  Cohan. 

"Watch  your  step !"  he  cried,  nimbly  avoiding  the 
attentions  of  a  ground-rattler  which  tried  to  caress 
his  ankle  from  under  a  saw-palmetto. 

With  a  shudder  I  gave  the  deadly  little  reptile 
room  and  floundered  forward  a  prey  to  exhaustion, 
melancholy,  and  red-bugs.  A  few  buzzards  kept 
pace  with  me,  their  broad,  black  shadows  gliding 
ominously  over  the  sun-drenched  earth;  blue-tail 
lizards  went  rustling  and  leaping  away  on  every 
side;  floppy  soft-winged  butterflies  escorted  me;  a 
strange  bird  which  seemed  to  be  dressed  in  a  union 
suit  of  checked  gingham,  flew  from  tree  to  tree  as  I 
plodded  on,  and  squealed  at  me  persistently. 

At  last  I  felt  the  hard  coquina  under  foot;  the 
cool  blue  shadow  of  the  hills  enveloped  me ;  I  slipped 

82 


The  Immortal 


off  my  pack,  dumped  it  beside  a  little  rill  of  crystal 
water  which  ran  sparkling  from  the  hills,  and  sat 
down  on  a  soft  and  fragrant  carpet  of  hound's- 
tongue. 

After  a  while  I  drank  my  fill  at  the  rill,  bathed 
head,  neck,  face  and  arms,  and,  feeling  delightfully 
refreshed,  leaned  back  against  the  fern-covered  slab 
of  coquina. 

"What  are  you  doing?"  I  demanded  of  Mink  who 
was  unpacking  the  kit  and  disengaging  the  moving- 
picture  machine. 

"Gettin'  ready,"  he  replied,  fussing  busily  with 
the  camera. 

"You  don't  expect  to  see  any  cave  people  here,  do 
you  ?"  I  asked  with  a  thrill  of  reviving  excitement. 

"Why  not?" 

"Here?" 

"Cert'nly.  Why  the  first  one  I  seen  was  a- 
drinkin'  into  this  brook." 

"Here!  Where  I'm  sitting?"  I  asked  incredu 
lously. 

"Yes,  sir,  right  there.  It  was  this  way ;  I  was  lyin* 
down,  tryin'  to  figure  the  shortes'  way  to  Fort 
Coquina,  an*  wishin'  I  was  nearer  Broadway  than 


Police!  !  ! 


I  was  to  the  Equator,  when  I  heard  a  voice  say, 
'Blub-blub,  muck-a-muck !'  an'  then  I  seen  two  cave- 
ladies  come  sof  ly  stealin'  along." 

"W-where?" 

''Right  there  where  you  are  a-sittin'.  Say,  they 
was  lookers!  An'  they  come  along  quiet  like  two 
big-eyed  deer,  kinder  nosin'  the  air  and  listenin'. 

"  'Gee  whiz,'  thinks  I,  'Longacre  ain't  got  so  much 
on  them  dames!'  An'  at  that  one  o'  them  wore  a 
wild-cat's  skin  an'  that's  all — an'  a  wild-cat  ain't 
big.  And  t'other  she  sported  pa'm-leaf  pyjamas. 

"So  when  they  don't  see  nothin'  around  to  hinder, 
they  just  lays  down  flat  and  takes  a  drink  into  that 
pool,  lookin'  up  every  swallow  like  little  birds  listen- 
in'  and  kinder  thankin'  God  for  a  good  square  drink. 

"I  knowed  they  was  wild  girls  soon  as  I  seen  'em. 
Also  they  sez  to  one  another,  'Blub-blub!'  Kinder 
sof'ly.  All  the  same  I've  seen  wilder  ladies  on 
Broadway  so  I  took  a  chanst  where  I  was  squattin' 
behind  a  rock. 

"So  sez  I,  'Ah  there,  sweetie  Blub-blub!  Have 
a  taxi  on  me !'  An'  with  that  they  is  on  their  feet, 
quiverin'  all  over  an'  nosin'  the  wind.  So  first  I 
took  some  snapshots  at  'em  with  my  Bijoo  camera. 

84 


The  Immortal 


"I  guess  they  scented  me  all  right  for  I  seen  their 
eyes  grow  bigger,  an'  then  they  give  a  bound  an' 
was  off  over  the  rocks ;  an'  me  after  'em.  Say,  that 
was  some  steeple-chase  until  a  few  more  cave-ladies 
come  out  on  them  rocks  above  us  an'  hove  chunks 
of  coquina  at  me. 

"An'  with  all  that  dodgin'  an'  duckin'  of  them 
there  rocks  the  cave-girls  got  away;  an'  I  seen  'em 
an'  the  other  cave-ladies  scurryin'  into  little  caves — 
one  whisked  into  this  hole,  another  scuttled  into 
that — bing !  all  over ! 

"All  I  could  think  of  was  to  light  a  cigar  an'  blow 
the  smoke  in  after  the  best-lookin'  cave-girl.  But  I 
couldn't  smoke  her  out,  an'  I  hadn't  time  to  starve 
her  out.  So  that's  all  I  know  about  this  here  pree- 
historic  an'  extinc'  race  o'  vanishin'  cave-ladies." 

As  his  simple  and  illiterate  narrative  advanced  I 
became  proportionally  excited ;  and,  when  he  ended, 
I  sprang  to  my  feet  in  an  uncontrollable  access  of 
scientific  enthusiasm: 

"Was  she  really  pretty?"  I  asked. 

"Listen,  she  was  that  peachy " 

"Enough!"  I  cried.  "Science  expects  every  man 
to  do  his  duty!  Are  your  films  ready  to  record  a 

85 


Police!  !  ! 


scene  without  precedent  in  the  scientific  annals  of 
creation?" 

"They  sure  is!" 

"Then  place  your  camera  and  your  person  in  a 
strategic  position.  This  is  a  magnificent  spot  for  an 
ambush!  Come  over  beside  me!" 

He  came  across  to  where  I  had  taken  cover  among 
the  ferns  behind  the  parapet  of  coquina,  and  with 
a  thrill  of  pardonable  joy  I  watched  him  unlimber 
his  photographic  artillery  and  place  it  in  battery 
where  my  every  posture  and  action  would  be  re 
corded  for  posterity  if  a  cave-lady  came  down  to  the 
water-hole  to  drink. 

"It  were  futile,"  I  explained  to  him  in  a  guarded 
voice,  "for  me  to  attempt  to  cajole  her  as  you  at 
tempted  it.  Neither  playful  nor  moral  suasion  could 
avail,  for  it  is  certain  that  no  cave-lady  understands 
English." 

"I  thought  o'  that,  too,"  he  remarked.  "I  said, 
'Blub-blub !  muck-a-muck !'  to  'em  when  they  started 
to  run,  but  it  didn't  do  no  good." 

I  smiled:  "Doubtless,"  said  I,  "the  spoken  lan 
guage  of  the  cave-dweller  is  made  up  of  similarly 
primitive  exclamations,  and  you  were  quite  right  in 

86 


The  Immortal 


attempting  to  communicate  with  the  cave-ladies  and 
establish  a  cordial  entente.  Professor  Garner  has 
done  so  among  the  Simian  population  of  Gaboon. 
Your  attempt  is  most  creditable  and  I  shall  make  it 
part  of  my  record. 

"But  the  main  idea  is  to  capture  a  living  speci 
men  of  cave-lady,  and  corroborate  every  detail  of 
that  pursuit  and  capture  upon  the  films. 

"And  believe  me,  Mr.  Mink,"  I  added,  my  voice 
trembling  with  emotion,  "no  Academician  is  likely 
to  go  to  sleep  when  I  illustrate  my  address  with 
such  pictures  as  you  are  now  about  to  take!" 

"The  police  might  pull  the  show,"  he  suggested. 

"No,"  said  I,  "Science  is  already  immune;  art  is 
becoming  so.  Only  nature  need  fear  the  violence  of 
prejudice;  and  doubtless  she  will  continue  to  wear 
pantalettes  and  common-sense  nighties  as  long  as 
our  great  republic  endures." 

I  unslung  my  field-glasses,  adjusted  them  and 
took  a  penetrating  squint  at  the  hillside  above. 

Nothing  stirred  up  there  except  a  buzzard  or  two 
wheeling  on  tip-curled  pinions  above  the  palms. 

Presently  Mink  inquired  whether  I  had  "lamped" 
anything,  and  I  replied  that  I  had  not. 

87 


Police!  !  ! 


"They  may  be  snoozin'  in  their  caves,"  he  sug 
gested.  "But  don't  you  fret,  old  top;  you'll  get 
what's  comin'  to  you  and  I'll  get  mine." 

"About  that  check — "    I  began  and  hesitated. 

"Sure.    What  about  it?" 

"I  suppose  I'm  to  give  it  to  you  when  the  first 
cave-woman  appears." 

"That's  what!" 

I  pondered  the  matter  for  a  while  in  silence.  I 
could  see  no  risk  in  paying  him  this  draft  on  sight. 

"All  right,"  I  said.  "Bring  on  your  cave-dwell 
ers." 

Hour  succeeded  hour,  but  no  cave-dwellers  came 
down  to  the  pool  to  drink.  We  ate  luncheon — a  bit 
of  cold  duck,  some  koonti-bread,  and  a  dish  of  palm- 
cabbage.  I  smoked  an  inexpensive  cigar ;  Mink  lit  a 
more  pretentious  one.  Afterward  he  played  on  his 
concertina  at  my  suggestion  on  the  chance  that  the 
music  might  lure  a  cave-girl  down  the  hill.  Nymphs 
were  sometimes  caught  that  way,  and  modern 
science  seems  to  be  reverting  more  and  more  closely 
to  the  simpler  truths  of  the  classics  which,  in  our 
ignorance  and  arrogance,  we  once  dismissed  as 
fables  unworthy  of  scientific  notice. 

88 


He  played  on  his  concertina  ...  on  the  chance  that  the 
music  might  lure  a  cave-girl  down  the  hill." 


Police!!  I 


However  this  Broadway  faun  piped  in  vain:  no 
white-footed  dryad  came  stealing  through  the  ferns 
to  gaze,  perhaps  to  dance  to  the  concertina's  plain 
tive  melodies. 

So  after  a  while  he  put  his  concertina  into  his 
pocket,  cocked  his  derby  hat  on  one  side,  gathered 
his  little  bandy  legs  under  his  person,  and  squatted 
there  in  silence,  chewing  >  the  wet  and  bitter  end  of 
his  extinct  cigar. 

Toward  mid-afternoon  I  unslung  my  field-glasses 
again  and  surveyed  the  hill. 

At  first  I  noticed  nothing,  not  even  a  buzzard; 
then,  of  a  sudden,  my  attention  was  attracted  to 
something  moving  among  the  fern-covered  slabs  of 
coquina  just  above  where  we  lay  concealed — a 
slim,  graceful  shape  half  shadowed  under  a  veil 
of  lustrous  hair  which  glittered  like  gold  in  the 
sun. 

"Mink!"  I  whispered  hoarsely.  "One  of  them  is 
coming!  This — this  indeed  is  the  stupendous  and 
crowning  climax  of  my  scientific  career!" 

His  comment  was  incredibly  coarse :  "Gimme  the 
dough,"  he  said  without  a  tremor  of  surprise.  In 
deed  there  was  a  metallic  ring  of  menace  in  his  low 

90 


The  Immortal 


and  entirely  cold  tones  as  he  laid  one  hand  on  my 
arm.  "No  welchin',"  he  said,  "or  I  put  the  whole 
show  on  the  bum !" 

The  overwhelming  excitement  of  the  approaching 
crisis  neutralized  my  disgust;  I  fished  out  the  certi 
fied  check  from  my  pocket  and  flung  the  miserable 
scrap  of  paper  at  him.  "Get  your  machine  ready !" 
I  hissed.  "Do  you  understand  what  these  moments 
mean  to  the  civilized  world!" 

"I  sure  do,"  he  said. 

Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  lithe  white  figure 
under  its  glorious  crown  of  hair,  moving  warily  and 
gracefully  amid  the  great  coquina  slabs — nearer, 
nearer,  until  I  no  longer  required  my  glasses. 

She  was  a  slender  red-lipped  thing,  blue-eyed, 
dainty  of  hand  and  foot. 

The  spotted  pelt  of  a  wild-cat  covered  her,  or  at 
tempted  to. 

I  unfolded  a  large  canvas  sack  as  she  approached 
the  pool.  For  a  moment  or  two  she  stood  gazing 
around  her  and  her  close-set  ears  seemed  to  be  listen 
ing.  Then,  apparently  satisfied,  she  threw  back  her 
beautiful  young  head  and  sent  a  sweet  wild  call 
floating  back  to  the  sunny  hillside. 


Police!  !  ! 


"Blub-blub!"  rang  her  silvery  voice;  "blub-blub! 
Muck-a-muck !"  And  from  the  fern-covered  hol 
lows  above  other  voices  replied  joyously  to  her  reas 
suring  call,  "Blub-blub-blub!" 

The  whole  bunch  was  coming  down  to  drink— - 
the  entire  remnant  of  a  prehistoric  and  almost  ex 
tinct  race  of  human  creatures  was  coming  to  quench 
its  thirst  at  this  water-hole.  How  I  wished  for 
James  Barnes  at  the  camera's  crank!  He  alone 
could  do  justice  to  this  golden  girl  before  me. 

One  by  one,  clad  in  their  simple  yet  modest  gowns 
of  pelts  and  garlands,  five  exquisitively  superb  spe 
cimens  of  cave-girl  came  gracefully  down  to  the 
water-hole  to  drink. 

Almost  swooning  with  scientific  excitement  I 
whispered  to  the  unspeakable  Mink:  "Begin  to 
crank  as  soon  as  I  move !"  And,  gathering  up  my 
big  canvas  sack  I  rose,  and,  still  crouching,  stole 
through  the  ferns  on  tip-toe. 

They  had  already  begun  to  drink  when  they  heard 
me;  I  must  have  made  some  slight  sound  in  the 
ferns,  for  their  keen  ears  detected  it  and  they  sprang 
to  their  feet. 

It  was  a  magnificent  sight  to  see  them  there  by  the 

92 


"  Moving  warily  and  gracefully 

amid  the  great  coquina 

slabs." 


8 


Police!  !  I 


pool,  tense,  motionless,  at  gaze,  their  dainty  noses  to 
the  wind,  their  beautiful  eyes  wide  and  alert. 

For  a  moment,  enchanted,  I  remained  spellbound 
in  the  presence  of  this  prehistoric  spectacle,  then, 
waving  my  sack,  I  sprang  out  from  behind  the  rock 
and  cantered  toward  them. 

Instead  of  scattering  and  flying  up  the  hillside 
they  seemed  paralyzed,  huddling  together  as  though 
to  get  into  the  picture.  Delighted  I  turned  and 
glanced  at  Mink;  he  was  cranking  furiously. 

With  an  uncontrollable  shout  of  triumph  and  de 
light  I  pranced  toward  the  huddling  cave-girls,  arms 
outspread  as  though  heading  a  horse  or  concentrat 
ing  chickens.  And,  totally  forgetting  the  useless- 
ness  of  urbanity  and  civilized  speech  as  I  danced 
around  that  lovely  but  terrified  group,  "Ladies!" 
I  cried,  "do  not  be  alarmed,  because  I  mean  only 
kindness  and  proper  respect.  Civilization  calls  you 
from  the  wilds!  Sentiment,  pity,  piety  propel  my 
legs,  not  the  ruthless  desire  to  injure  or  enslave  you ! 
Ladies!  You  are  under  the  wing  of  science.  An 
anthropologist  is  speaking  to*  you !  Fear  nothing ! 
Rather  rejoice!  Your  wonderful  race  shall  be 
rescued  from  extinction — even  if  I  have  to  do  it 

94 


The  Immortal 


myself!  Ladies,  don't  run!"  They  had  suddenly 
scattered  and  were  now  beginning  to  dodge  me.  "I 
come  among  you  bearing  the  precious  promises  of 
education,  of  religion,  of  equal  franchise,  of  fash 
ion!" 

"Blub-blub !"  they  whimpered  continuing  to  dodge 
me. 

"Yes !"  I  cried  in  an  excess  of  transcendental  en 
thusiasm.  "Blub-blub!  And  though  I  do  not  com 
prehend  the  exquisite  simplicity  of  your  primeval 
speech,  I  answer  with  all  my  heart,  'Blub-blub !'  " 

Meanwhile,  they  were  dodging  and  eluding  me 
as  I  chased  first  one,  then  another,  one  hand 
outstretched,  the  other  invitingly  clutching  the 
sack. 

A  hasty  glance  at  Mink  now  and  then  revealed 
him  industriously  cranking  away. 

Once  I  fell  into  the  pool.  That  section  of  the 
film  should  never  be  released,  I  determined,  as  I 
blew  the  water  out  of  my  mouth,  gasped,  and  started 
after  a  lovely,  ruddy-haired  cave-girl  whose  curiosity 
had  led  her  to  linger  beside  the  pool  in  which  I  was 
floundering. 

But  run  as  fast  as  I  could  and  skip  hither  and 

-   95 


Police!  !  ! 


thither  with  all  the  agility  I  could  muster  I  did  not 
seem  to  be  able  to  seize  a  single  cave-girl. 

Every  few  minutes,  baffled  and  breathless,  I 
rested;  and  they  always  clustered  together  uttering 
their  plaintively  musical  "blub-blub,"  not  apparently 
very  much  afraid  of  me,  and  even  exhibiting  curi 
osity.  Now  and  then  they  cast  glances  toward 
Mink  who  was  grinding  away  steadily,  and  I  could 
scarcely  retain  a  shout  of  joy  as  I  realized  what  won 
derful  pictures  he  was  taking.  Indeed  luck  seemed 
to  be  with  me,  so  far,  for  never  once  did  these  beau 
tiful  prehistoric  creatures  retire  out  of  photographic 
range. 

But  otherwise  the  problem  was  becoming  serious. 
I  could  not  catch  one  of  them ;  they  eluded  me  with 
maddening  swiftness  and  grace;  my  pauses  to  re 
cover  my  breath  became  more  frequent. 

At  last,  dead  beat,  I  sat  down  on  a  slab  of  coquina. 
And  when  I  was  able  to  articulate  I  turned  around 
toward  Mink. 

"You'll  have  to  drop  your  camera  and  come  over 
and  help  me,"  I  panted.  "I'm  all  in!" 

"Not  quite,"  he  said. 

For  a  moment  I  did  not  understand  him;  then 

96 


The  Immortal 


under  my  outraged  eyes,  and  within  the  hearing  of 
my  horrified  ears  a  terrible  thing  occurred. 

"Now,  ladies !"  yelled  Mink,  "all  on  for  the  fine- 
ally!  Up-stage  there,  you  red-headed  little  spot- 
crabber!  Mabel!  Take  the  call!  Now  smile  the 
whole  bloomin'  bunch  of  you !" 

What  was  he  saying?  I  did  not  comprehend. 
I  stared  dully  at  the  six  cave-girls  as  they  grouped 
themselves  in  a  semi-circle  behind  me. 

Then,  as  one  of  them  came  up  and  unfolded  a 
white  strip  of  cloth  behind  my  head,  the  others  drew 
from  concealed  pockets  in  their  kilts  of  cat-fur,  little 
silk  flags  of  all  nations  and  began  to  wave  them. 

Paralyzed  I  turned  my  head.  On  the  strip  of 
white  cloth,  which  the  tallest  cave-girl  was  holding 
directly  behind  my  head,  was  printed  in  large  black 
letters : 

SUNSET  SOAP 

For  one  cataclysmic  instant  I  gazed  upon  this 
hideous  spectacle,  then  with  an  unearthly  cry  I 
collapsed  into  the  arms  of  the  nicest  looking  one. 

There  is  little  more  to  say.  Contrary  to  my  fears 
the  release  of  this  outrageous  film  did  not  injure  my 

97 


"  I  collapsed  into  the  arms  of  the  nicest  looking  one." 


The  Immortal 


scientific  standing.  Modern  science^  accustomed'  to: 
proprietary  testimonials,  has  become  reconciled  to 
such  things. 

My  appearance  upon  the  films  in  the  movies  in 
behalf  of  Sunset  Soap,  cddly  enough,  seemed  to  en 
hance  my  scientific  reputation.  Even  such  austere 
purists  as  Guilford,  the  Cubist  poet,  congratulated 
me  upon  my  fearless  independence  of  ethical  tradi 
tion. 

And  I  had  lived  to  learn  a  gentler  truth  than  that, 
for,  the  pretty  girl  who  had  been  cast  for  Cave-girl 
No.  3 — But  let  that  pass.  Adhlbenda  esfin  jocando 
moderatio. 

Sweet  are  the  uses  of  adver-tisement. 


• 


THE  LADIES  OF  THE  LAKE 


THE  LADIES  OF  THE  LAKE 

I 

AT  the  suggestion  of  several  hundred  thou 
sand  ladies  desiring  to  revel  and  possibly 
riot  in  the  saturnalia  of  equal  franchise,  the 
unnamed  lakes  in  that  vast  and  little  known  region 
in  Alaska  bounded  by  the  Ylanqui  River  and  the 

103 


Police!  !  ! 


Thunder  Mountains  were  now  being  inexorably 
named  after  women. 

It  was  a  beautiful  thought.  Already  several  ex 
quisite,  lonely  bits  of  water,  gem-set  among  the 
eternal  peaks,  mirrors  for  cloud  and  soaring  eagle, 
a  glass  for  the  moon  as  keystone  to  the  towering  arch 
of  stars,  had  been  irrevocably  labelled. 

Already  there  was  Lake  Amelia  Jones,  Lake  Sadie 
Dingleheimer,  Lake  Maggie  McFadden,  and  Lake 
Mrs.  Gladys  Doolittle  Batt. 

I  longed  to  see  these  lakes  under  the  glamour  of 
their  newly  added  beauty. 

Imagine,  therefore,  my  surprise  and  happiness 
when  I  received  the  following  communication  from 
my  revered  and  beloved  chief,  Professor  Farrago, 
dated  from  the  Smithsonian  Institute,  Washington, 
whither  he  had  been  summoned  in  haste  to  examine 
and  pronounce  upon  the  identity  of  a  very  small  bird 
supposed  to  be  a  specimen  of  that  rare  and  almost 
extinct  creature,  the  two-toed  titmouse,  Mustitia 
duototus,  to  be  scientifically  exact,  as  I  invariably 
strive  to  be. 

The  important  letter  in  question  was  as  fol 
lows  : 

104 


The  Ladies  of  the  Lake 


To 

Percy  Smith,  B.S.,  D.F.,  etc.,  etc., 

Curator,  Department  of  Anthropology, 
Administration  Building, 

Bronx  Park,  N.  Y. 
My  Dear  Mr.  Smith : 

Several  very  important  and  determined  ladies,  recently 
honoured  by  the  Government  in  having  a  number  of  lakes 
in  Alaska  named  after  them,  have  decided  to  make  a 
pilgrimage  to  that  region,  inspired  by  a  characteristic  de 
sire  to  gaze  upon  the  lakes  named  after  them  individually. 
They  request  information  upon  the  following  points: 

1st.  Are  the  waters  of  the  lakes  in  that  locality 
sufficiently  clear  for  a  lady  to  do  her  hair  by?  In 
that  event,  the  expedition  will  not  burden  itself  with 
looking-glasses. 

2nd.  Are  there  any  hotels?  (You  need  merely 
say,  no.  I  have  tried  to  explain  to  them  that  it  is, 
for  the  most  part,  an  unexplored  wilderness,  but 
they  insist  upon  further  information  from  you.) 

3rd.  If  there  are  hotels,  is  there  also  running  water 
to  be  had?  (You  may  tell  them  that  there  is  plenty 
of  running  water.) 

4th.  What  are  the  summer  outdoor  amusements? 
(You  may  inform  them  that  there  is  plenty  of  bath 
ing,    boating,    fishing,    and    an    abundance    of    shade 
trees.     Also,  excellent  mountain-climbing  to  be  had 
in  the  vicinity.     You  need  not  mention  the  pastimes 
of  "Hunt  the  Flea"  or  "Dodge  the  Skeeter.") 
I  am  not  by  nature  cruel,  Mr.  Smith,  but  when  these 
ladies   informed  me  that   they  had  decided  to  penetrate 
that   howling  and   unexplored   wilderness   without   being 

105 


Police!  !  ! 


burdened  or  interfered  with  by  any  member  of  my  sex, 
for  one  horrid  and  criminal  moment  I  hoped  they  would. 
Because  in  that  event  none  of  them  would  ever  come 
back. 

However,  in  my  heart  milder  and  more  humane  senti 
ments  prevailed.  I  pointed  out  to  them  the  peril  of  their 
undertaking,  the  dangers  of  an  unexplored  region,  the 
necessity  of  masculine  guidance  and  support. 

My  earnestness  and  solicitude  were,  I  admit,  prompted 
partly  by  a  desire  to  utilize  this  expensively  projected 
expedition  as  a  vehicle  for  the  accumulation  of  scientific 
data. 

As  soon  as  I  heard  of  it  I  conceived  the  plan  of  at 
taching  two  members  of  our  Bronx  Park  scientific  staff 
to  the  expedition — you,  and  Mr.  Brown. 

But  no  sooner  did  these  determined  ladies  hear  Of  it 
than  they  repelled  the  suggestion  with  indignation. 

Now,  the  matter  stands  as  follows:  These  ladies  don't 
want  any  man  in  the  expedition;  but  they  have  at  last 
realized  that  they've  got  to  take  a  guide  or  two.  And 
there  are  no  feminine  guides  in  Alaska. 

Therefore,  considering  the  immense  and  vital  import 
ance  of  such  an  opportunity  to  explore  and  report  upon 
this  unknown  region  at  somebody  else's  expense,  I  sug 
gest  that  you  and  Brown  meet  these  ladies  at  Lake  Mrs. 
Susan  W.  Pillsbury,  which  lies  on  the  edge  of  the  region 
to  be  explored;  that  you,  without  actually  perjuring  your 
selves  too  horribly,  convey  to  them  the  misleading  im 
pression  that  you  are  the  promised  guides  provided  'for 
them  by  a  cowed  and  avuncular  Government;  and  that 
you  take  these  fearsome  ladies  about  and  let  them  gaze 
at  their  reflections  in  the  various  lakes  named  after  them ; 

106 


The  Ladies  of  the  Lake 


and  that,  while  the  expedition  lasts,  you  secretly  make 
such  observations,  notes,  reports,  and  collections  of  the 
flora  and  fauna  of  the  region  as  your  opportunities  may 
permit. 

No  time  is  to  be  lost.  If,  at  Lake  Susan  W.  Pillsbury, 
you  find  regular  guides  awaiting  these  ladies,  you  will 
bribe  these  guides  to  go  away  and  you  yourselves  will 
then  impersonate  the  guides.  I  know  of  no  other  way 
for  you  to  explore  this  region,  as  all  our  available  re 
sources  at  Bronx  Park  have  already  been  spent  in  paint 
ing  appropriate  scenery  to  line  the  cages  of  the  mam 
malia,  and  also  in  the  present  exceedingly  expensive  ex 
pedition  in  search  o'f  the  polka-dotted  boom-bock,  which 
is  supposed  to  inhabit  the  jungle  beyond  Lake  Nigger- 
plug. 

My  most  solemn  and  sincere  wishes  accompany  you. 
Bless  you ! 

FARRAGO. 


II 


THIS,  then,  is  how  it  came  about  that  "Kit 
ten"  Brown  and  I  were  seated,  one  midge- 
ful  morning  in  July,  by  the  pellucid  waters 
of  Lake  Susan  W.  Pillsbury,  gnawing  sections  from 
a  greasily  fried  trout,  upon  which  I  had  attempted 
culinary  operations. 

Brown's  baptismal  name  was  William;  but  the 
unfortunate  young  man  was  once  discovered  indis- 

107 


Police!  !  ! 


erectly  embracing  a  pretty  assistant  in  the  Adminis 
tration  Building  at  Bronx,  and,  furthermore,  was 
overheard  to  address  her  as  "Kitten." 

So  Kitten  Brown  it  was  for  him  in  future.  After 
he  had  fought  all  the  younger  members  of  the  scien 
tific  staff  in  turn,  he  gradually  became  resigned  to 
this  annoying  nom  d'amour. 

Lightly  but  thoroughly  equipped  for  scientific  field 
research,  we  had  arrived  at  the  rendezvous  in  time 
to  bribe  the  two  guides  engaged  by  the  Government 
to  go  back  to  their  own  firesides. 

A  week  later  the  formidable  expedition  of  repre 
sentative  ladies  arrived;  and  now  they  were  sitting 
on  the  shore  of  Lake  Susan  W.  Pillsbury,  at  a  little 
distance  from  us,  trying  to  keep  the  midges  from 
their  features  and  attempting  to  eat  the  fare  pro 
vided  for  them  by  me. 

I  myself  couldn't  eat  it.  No  wonder  they  mur 
mured.  But  hunger  goaded  them  to  attack  the 
greasy  mess  of  trout  and  fried  cornmeal. 

Kitten  was  saying  to  me : 

"Our  medicine  chest  isn't  very  extensive.  I  hope 
they  brought  their  own.  If  they  didn't,  some  among 
us  will  never  again  see  New  York." 

108 


The  Ladies  of  the  Lake 


I  stole  a  furtive  glance  at  the  unfortunate  women. 
There  was  one  among  them — but  let  me  first  enu 
merate  their  heavy  artillery : 

There  was  the  Reverend  Dr.  Amelia  Jones,  blond, 
adipose,  and  close  to  the  four-score  mark.  She 
stepped  high  in  the  Equal  Franchise  ranks.  Nobody 
had  ever  had  the  temerity  to  answer  her  back. 

There  was  Miss  Sadie  Dingleheimer,  fifty,  emaci 
ated,  anemic,  and  gauntly  glittering  with  thick- 
lensed  eye-glasses.  She  was  the  President  of  the 
National  Prophylactic  Club,  whatever  that  may  be. 

There  was  Miss  Margaret  McFadden,  a  Titian, 
profusely  toothed,  muscular,  and  President  of  the 
Hair  Dressers'  Union  of  the  United  States. 

There  was  Mrs.  Gladys  Doolittle  Batt,  a  grass 
one — Batt  being  represented  as  a  vanishing  point 
— President  of  the  National  Eugenic  and  Purity 
League ;  tall,  gnarled,  sinuously  powerful,  and  prone 
to  emotional  attacks.  The  attacks  were  directed  to 
ward  others. 

These,  then,  composed  the  heavy  artillery.  The 
artillery  of  the  light  brigade  consisted  only  of  a 
single  piece.  Her  name  was  Angelica  White,  a  dele 
gate  from  the  Trained  Nurses'  Association  of 

9  109 


Police!  !  ! 


America.  The  nurses  had  been  too  busy  with  their 
business  to  attend  such  picnics,  so  one  had  been  se 
lected  by  lot  to  represent  the  busy  Association  on 
this  expedition. 

Angelica  White  was  a  tall,  fair,  yellow-haired  girl 
of  twenty-two  or  three,  with  violet-blue  eyes  and  red 
lips,  and  a  way  of  smiling  a  little  when  spoken  to — 
but  let  that  pass.  I  mean  only  to  be  scientifically 
minute.  A  passion  for  fact  has  ever  obsessed  me. 
I  have  little  literary  ability  and  less  desire  to  sully 
my  pen  with  that  degraded  form  of  letters  known  as 
fiction.  Once  in  my  life  my  mania  for  accuracy  in 
volved  me  lyrically.  It  was  a  short  poem,  but  an 
earnest  one : 


Truth  is  mighty  and  must  prevail, 
Otherwise  it  were  inadvisable  to  tell  the  tale. 


I  bestowed  it  upon  the  New  York  Evening  Post, 
but  declined  remuneration.  My  message  belonged 
to  the  world.  I  don't  mean  the  newspaper. 

Her  eyes,  then,  were  tinted  with  that  indefinable 
and  agreeable  nuance  which  modifies  blue  to  a  lilac 
or  violet  hue. 

no 


The  Ladies  of  the  Lake 


Watching  her  askance,  I  was  deeply  sorry  that 
my  cooking  seemed  to  pain  her. 

"Guide!"  said  Mrs.  Doolittle  Batt,  in  that  re 
markable,  booming  voice  of  hers. 

"Ma'am!"  said  Kitten  Brown  and  I  with  spon 
taneous  alacrity,  leaping  from  the  ground  as  though 
shot  at. 

"This  cooking,"  she  said,  with  an  ominous  stare 
at  us,  "is  atrocious.  Don't  you  know  how  to  cook  ?" 

I  said  with  a  smiling  attempt  at  ease : 

"There  are  various  ways  of  cooking  food  for  the 
several  species  of  mammalia  which  an  all-wise  Prov 
idence " 

"Do  you  think  you're  cooking  for  wild-cats  ?"  she 
demanded. 

Our  smiles  faded. 

"It's  my  opinion  that  you're  incompetent,"  re 
marked  the  Reverend  Dr.  Jones,  slapping  at  midges 
with  a  hand  that  might  have  rocked  all  the  cradles 
of  the  nation,  but  had  not  rocked  any. 

"We're  not  getting  our  money's  worth,"  said  Miss 
Dingleheimer,  "even  if  the  Government  does  pay 
your  salaries." 

I  looked  appealingly  from  one  stony  face  to  an- 

in 


Police!  !  ! 


other.  In  Miss  McFadden's  eye  there  was  the  som 
bre  glint  of  battle.  She  said : 

"If  you  can  guide  us  no  better  than  you  cook,  God 
save  us  all  this  day  week !"  And  she  hurled  the  con 
tents  of  her  tin  plate  into  Lake  Susan  W.  Pillsbury. 

Mrs.  Doolittle  Batt  arose : 

"Come,"  she  said;  "it  is  time  we  started.  What 
is  the  name  of  the  first  lake  we  may  hope  to  en 
counter?" 

We  knew  no  more  than  did  they,  but  we  said  that 
Lake  Gladys  Doolittle  Batt  was  the  first,  hoping  to 
placate  that  fearsome  woman. 

"Come  on,  then !"  she  cried,  picking  up  her  carved 
and  varnished  mountain  staff. 

Miss  Dingleheimer  had  brought  one,  too,  from 
the  Catskills. 

So  Kitten  Brown  and  I  loaded  our  mule,  set 
him  in  motion,  and  drove  him  forward  into  the  un 
known. 

Where  we  were  going  we  had  not  the  slightest 
idea;  the  margin  of  the  lake  was  easy  travelling,  so 
easy  that  we  never  noticed  that  we  had  already  gone 
around  the  lake  three  times,  until  Mrs.  Batt  recog 
nized  the  fact  and  turned  on  us  furiously. 

112 


The  Ladies  of  the  Lake 


I  didn't  know  how  to  explain  it,  except  to  say 
feebly  that  I  was  doing  it  as  a  sort  of  preliminary 
canter  to  harden  and  inure  the  ladies. 

"We  don't  need  hardening!"  she  snarled.  "Do 
you  understand  that !" 

I  comprehended  that  at  once.  But  I  forced  a 
sickly  smile  and  skipped  forward  in  the  wake  of 
my  mule,  with  something  of  the  same  abandon 
which  characterizes  the  flight  of  an  unwelcome 
dog. 

In  the  terrified  ear  of  Kitten  I  voiced  my  doubts 
concerning  the  prospects  of  a  pleasant  journey. 

We  marched  in  the  following  order :  Arthur,  the 
heavily  laden  mule,  led;  then  came  Kitten  Brown 
and  myself,  all  hung  over  with  stew-pans,  shot 
guns,  rifles,  cartridge-belts,  ponchos,  and  the  toilet 
reticules  of  the  ladies;  then  marched  the  Reverend 
Dr.  Jones,  and,  in  order,  filing  behind  her,  Miss 
Dingleheimer,  Mrs.  Batt,  Miss  McFadden,  and  Miss 
White — the  latter  in  her  trained  nurse's  costume  and 
wearing  a  red  cross  on  her  sleeve — an  idea  of  Mrs. 
Batt,  who  believed  in  emergency  methods. 

Mrs.  Batt  also  bore  a  banner,  much  interfered 
with  by  the  foliage,  bearing  the  inscription : 

"3 


Police!  !  ! 


EQUAL   RIGHTS! 
EUGENICS    OR   EXTERMINATION! 

After  a  while  she  shouted : 

"Guide!  Here,  you  may  carry  this  banner  for  a 
while!  I'm  tired." 

Kitten  and  I  took  turns  with  it  after  that.  It 
was  hard  work,  particularly  as  one  by  one  in  turn 
they  came  up  and  hung  their  parasols  and  shopping 
reticules  all  over  us.  We  plodded  forward  like  a 
pair  of  moving  department  stores,  not  daring  to 
shift  our  burdens  to  Arthur,  because  we  had  already 
stuffed  into  the  panniers  of  that  simple  and  dignified 
animal  all  our  collecting  boxes,  cyanide  jars,  butter 
fly  nets,  note-books,  reels  of  piano  wire,  thermom 
eters,  barometers,  hydrometers,  stereometers,  aero- 
noids,  adnoids — everything,  in  fact,  that  guides  are 
not  supposed  to  pack  into  the  woods,  but  which  we 
had  smuggled  unbeknown  to  those  misguided  ones 
we  guided. 

And,  to  make  room  for  our  scientific  parapher 
nalia,  we  had  been  obliged  to  do  a  thing  so  mean,  so 
inexpressibly  low,  that  I  blush  to  relate  it.  But 
facts  are  facts ;  we  discarded  nearly  a  ton  of  feminine 

114 


The  Ladies  of  the  Lake 


impedimenta.  There  was  fancy  work  of  all  sorts  in 
the  making  or  in  the  raw — materials  for  knitting, 
embroidering,  tatting,  sewing,  hemming,  stitching, 
drawn-work,  lace-making,  crocheting. 

Also  we  disposed  of  almost  half  a  ton  of  toilet 
necessities — powder,  perfumery,  cosmetics,  hot- 
water  bags,  slippers,  negligees,  novels,  magazines, 
bon-bons,  chewing-gum,  hat-boxes,  gloves,  stock 
ings,  underwear. 

We  left  enough  apparel  for  each  lady  to  change 
once.  They'd  have  to  do  some  scrubbing  now. 
Science  can  not  be  halted  by  hatpins;  cosmos  can 
not  be  side-tracked  by  cosmetics. 

Toward  sunset  we  came  upon  a  small,  crystal 
clear  pond,  set  between  the  bases  of  several  lofty 
mountains.  I  was  ready  to  drop  with  fatigue,  but 
I  nerved  myself,  drew  a  deep,  exultant  breath,  and 
with  one  of  those  fine,  sweeping  gestures,  I  cried : 

"Lake  Mrs.  Gladys  Doolittle  Batt !  Eureka !  At 
last !  Excelsior !" 

There  was  a  profound  silence  behind  me.  I  turned, 
striving  to  mask  my  apprehension  with  a  smile.  The 
ladies  were  regarding  the  pond  in  surprise.  I  admit 
that  it  was  a  pond,  not  a  lake. 


Police!  1 ! 


Injecting  into  my  voice  the  last  remnants  of  glee 
which  I  could  summon,  I  shouted,  "Eureka!"  and 
began  to  caper  about  as  though  the  size  and  beauty 
of  the  pond  had  affected  me  with  irrepressible  en 
thusiasm,  hoping  by  my  emotion  to  stampede  the 
convention. 

The  cold  voice  of  Mrs.  Doolittle  Batt  checked  my 
transports : 

"Is  that  puddle  named  after  me?"  she  demanded. 

"M-ma'am?"  I  stammered. 

"If  that  wretched  frog-pond  has  been  christened 
with  my  name,  somebody  is  going  to  get  into 
trouble,"  she  said  ominously. 

A  profound  silence  ensued.  Arthur  patiently 
switched  at  flies.  As  for  me,  I  looked  up  at  the 
majestic  pines,  gazed  upon  the  lofty  and  eternal  hills, 
then  ventured  a  sneaking  glance  all  around  me.  But 
i  could  discover  no  avenue  of  escape  in  case  Mrs. 
Batt  should  charge  me. 

"I  had  been  informed,"  she  began  dangerously, 
"that  the  majestic  body  of  water,  which  I  under 
stood  had  been  honoured  with  my  name,  was  twelve 
miles  long  and  three  miles  wide.  This  appears  to 
be  a  puddle !" 

1x6 


The  Ladies  of  the  Lake 


:B-b-but  it's  very  p-pretty,"  I  protested  feebly. 
"It's  quite  round  and  clear,  and  it's  nearly  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  in  d-diameter " 

"Mind  your  business!"  retorted  Mrs.  Doolittle 
Batt.  "I've  been  swindled!" 

Kitten  Brown  knew  more  about  women  than  did 
I.  He  said  in  a  fairly  steady  voice : 

"Madame,  it  is  an  outrage !  The  women  of  this 
mighty  nation  should  make  the  Government  answer 
able  for  its  duplicity!  Your  lake  should  have  been 
at  least  twenty  miles  long!" 

Everybody  turned  and  looked  at  Kitten.  He  was 
a  handsome  dog. 

"This  young  man  appears  to  have  some  trace  of 
common-sense,"  said  Mrs.  Batt.  "I  shall  see  to  it 
that  the  Government  is  held  responsible  for  this 
odious  act  of  insulting  duplicity.  I — I  won't  have 
my  name  given  to  this — this  wallow! — "  She  ad 
vanced  toward  me,  her  small  eyes  blazing:  I  re 
treated  to  leeward  of  Arthur. 

"Guide !"  she  said  in  a  voice  still  trembling  with 
passion.  "Are  you  certain  that  you  have  made 
no  mistake?  You  appear  to  be  unusually  igno 
rant." 

117 


Police!  !  ! 


"I  am  afraid  there  can  be  no  room  for  doubt," 
I  said,  almost  scared  out  of  my  senses. 

"And  on  top  of  this  outrage,  am  I  to  eat  your 
cooking?"  she  demanded  passionately.  "Did  I  come 
here  to  look  at  this  frog-pond  and  choke  on  your 
cooking?  Did  IT' 

"I  can  cook,"  said  a  clear,  pleasant  voice  at  my 
elbow.  And  Miss  White  came  forward,  cool,  clean, 
fresh  as  a  posy  in  her  uniform  and  cap.  I  immedi 
ately  got  behind  her. 

"I  can  cook  very  nicely,"  she  said  smilingly.  "It 
is  part  of  my  profession,  you  know.  So  if  you  two 
guides  will  be  kind  enough  to  build  the  fire  and  help 
me — "  She  let  her  violet  eyes  linger  on  me  for  an 
instant,  then  on  Brown.  A  moment  later  he  and 
I  were  jostling  each  other  in  our  eagerness  to 
obey  her  slightest  suggestion.  It  is  that  way  with 
men. 

So  we  built  her  a  fire  and  unpacked  our  provi 
sions,  and  we  waited  very  politely  on  the  ladies 
when  dinner  was  ready. 

It  was  a  fine  dinner — coffee,  bacon,  flap- jacks, 
soup,  ash-bread,  stewed  chicken. 

The  heavy  artillery,  made  ravenous  by  their  jour- 

118 


The  Ladies  of  the  Lake 


ney,  required  vast  quantities  of  ammunition.  They 
banqueted  largely.  I  gazed  in  amazement  at  Mrs. 
Doolittle  Batt  as  she  swallowed  one  flap- jack  after 
another,  while  her  eyes  bulged  larger  and  larger. 

Nor  was  the  capacity  of  Miss  Dingleheimer  and 
the  Reverend  Dr.  Jones  to  be  mocked  at  by  pachy 
derms. 

Brown  and  I  left  them  eating  while  we  erected  the 
row  of  little  tents.  Every  lady  had  demanded  a 
separate  tent. 

So  we  cut  saplings,  set  up  the  silk,  drove  pegs, 
and  brought  armfuls  of  balsam  boughs. 

I  was  afraid  they'd  demand  their  knitting  and 
other  utensils,  but  they  had  eaten  to  repletion,  and 
were  sleepy ;  and  as  each  toilet  case  or  reticule  con 
tained  also  a  nightgown,  they  drew  the  flaps  of  their 
several  tents  without  insisting  that  we  unpack 
Arthur's  panniers. 

They  all  had  disappeared  within  their  tents  ex 
cept  Miss  White,  who  insisted  on  cooking  some 
thing  for  us,  although  we  protested  that  the  scraps 
of  the  banquet  were  all  right  for  mere  guides. 

She  stood  beside  us  for  a  few  minutes,  watching 
us  busy  with  our  delicious  dinner. 

119 


Police!  !  1 


"You  poor  fellows,"  she  said  gently.  "You  are 
nearly  starved." 

It  is  agreeable  to  be  sympathized  with  by  a  tall, 
fair,  fresh  young  girl.  We  looked  up,  simpering 
gratefully. 

"This  is  really  a  most  lovely  little  lake,"  she  said, 
gazing  out  across  the  still,  crystalline  water  which 
was  all  rose  and  gold  in  the  sunset,  save  where  the 
sombre  shapes  of  the  towering  mountains  were  mir 
rored  in  glassy  depths. 

"It's  odd,"  I  said,  "that  no  trout  are  jumping. 
There  ought  to  be  lots  of  them  there,  and  this  is 
their  jumping  hour." 

We  all  looked  at  the  quiet,  oval  bit  of  water.  Not 
a  circle,  not  the  slightest  ripple  disturbed  it. 

"It  must  be  deep,"  remarked  Brown. 

We  gazed  up  at  the  three  lofty  peaks,  the  bases 
of  which  were  the  shores  of  this  tiny  gem  among 
lakes.  Deep,  deep,  plunging  down  into  dusky 
profundity,  the  rocks  fell  away  sheer  into  limpid 
depths. 

"That  little  lake  may  be  a  thousand  feet  deep,"  I 
said.  "In  1903  Professor  Farrago,  of  Bronx  Park, 
measured  a  lake  in  the  Thunder  Mountains,  which 

120 


The  Ladies  of  the  Lake 


was  two  thousand  seven  hundred  and  sixty-nine  feet 
deep." 

Miss  White  looked  at  me  curiously. 

Into  a  patch  of  late  sunshine  flitted  a  small  butter 
fly — one  of  the  Grapta  species.  It  settled  on  a  chip 
of  wood,  uncoiled  its  delicate  proboscis,  and  spread 
its  fulvous  and  deeply  indented  wings. 

ft Grapta  California,"  remarked  Brown  to  me. 

"Vanessa  asteriska,"  I  corrected  him.  "Note  the 
anal  angle  of  the  secondaries  and  the  argentiferous 
discal  area  bordering  the  subcostal  nervule." 

"The  characteristic  stripes  on  the  primaries  are 
wanting,"  he  demurred. 

"It  is  double  brooded.  The  summer  form  lacks 
the  three  darker  bands." 

A  few  moments'  silence  was  broken  by  the  voice 
of  Miss  White. 

"I  had  no  idea,"  she  remarked,  "that  Alaskan 
guides  were  so  familiar  with  entomological  terms 
and  nomenclature." 

We  both  turned  very  red. 

Brown  mumbled  something  about  having  picked 
up  a  smattering.  I  added  that  Brown  had  taught  me. 

Perhaps  she  believed  us;  her  blue  eyes  rested  on 

121 


Police!  !  ! 


us  curiously,  musingly.  Also,  at  moments,  I  fancied 
there  was  the  faintest  glint  of  amusement  in  them. 

She  said : 

"Two  scientific  gentlemen  from  New  York  re 
quested  permission  to  join  this  expedition,  but  Mrs. 
Batt  refused  them."  She  gazed  thoughtfully  upon 
the  waters  of  Lake  Gladys  Doolittle  Batt.  "I  won 
der,"  she  murmured,  "what  became  of  those  two 
gentlemen." 

It  was  evident  that  we  had  betrayed  ourselves  to 
this  young  girl. 

She  glanced  at  us  again,  and  perhaps  she  noticed 
in  our  fascinated  gaze  an  expression  akin  to  terror, 
for  suddenly  she  laughed — such  a  clear,  sweet,  sil 
very  little  laugh ! 

"For  my  part,"  she  said,  "I  wish  they  had  come 
\vith  us.  I  like — men." 

With  that  she  bade  us  goodnight  very  politely  and 
went  off  to  her  tent,  leaving  us  with  our  hats  pressed 
against  our  stomachs,  attempting  by  the  profun 
dity  of  our  bows  to  indicate  the  depth  of  our 
gratitude. 

"There's  a  girl !"  exclaimed  Brown,  as  soon  as  she 
had  disappeared  behind  her  tent  flaps.  "She'll  never 

122 


The  Ladles  of  the  Lake 


let  on  to  Medusa,  Xantippe,  Cassandra  and  Com 
pany.  I  like  that  girl,  Smith." 

"You're  not  the  only  one  imbued  by  such  senti 
ments,"  said  I. 

He  smiled  a  fatuous  and  reminiscent  smile.  He 
certainly  was  good-looking.  Presently  he  said : 

"She  has  the  most  delightful  way  of  gazing  at  a 


rtl've  noticed/'  I  said  pleasantly. 

"Oh.  Did  she  happen  to  glance  at  you  that  way  ?" 
he  inquired.  I  wanted  to  beat  him. 

All  I  said  was : 

"She's  certainly  some  kitten."  Which  bottled  that 
young  man  for  a  while. 

We  lay  on  the  bank  of  the  tiny  lake,  our  backs 
against  a  huge  pine-tree,  watching  the  last  traces  of 
colour  fading  from  peak  and  tree-top. 

"'Isn't  it  queer,"  I  said,  "that  not  a  trout  has 
splashed?  It  can't  be  that  there  are  no  fish  in  the 
lake." 

"There  are  such  lakes." 

"Yes,  very  deep  ones.    I  wonder  how  deep  this  is." 

"We'll  be  out  at  sunrise  with  our  reel  of  piano 
wire  and  take  soundings,"  he  said.  "The  heavy  ar- 

123 


Police!  !  ! 


tillery  won't  wake  until  they're  ready  to  be  loaded 
with  flap-jacks." 

I  shuddered : 

"They're  fearsome  creatures,  Brown.  Somehow, 
that  resolute  and  bony  one  has  inspired  me  with  a 
terror  unutterable." 

"Mrs.  Batt?" 

"Yes." 

He  said  seriously: 

"She'll  make  a  horrid  outcry  when  she  asks  for 
her  knitting.  What  are  you  going  to  tell  her?" 

"I  shall  say  that  Indians  ambuscaded  us  while  she 
was  asleep,  and  carried  off  all  those  things." 

"You  lie  very  nicely,  don't  you?"  he  remarked 
admiringly. 

"In  vitium  ducit  culpce  fuga"  said  I.  "Besides, 
they  don't  really  need  those  articles." 

He  laughed.  He  didn't  seem  to  be  very  much 
afraid  of  Mrs.  Batt. 

It  had  grown  deliciously  dusky,  and  myriads  of 
stars  were  coming  out.  Little  by  little  the  lake  lost 
its  shape  in  the  darkness,  until  only  an  irregular, 
star-set  area  of  quiet  water  indicated  that  there  was 
any  lake  there  at  all. 

124 


The  Ladies  of  the  Lake 


I  remember  that  Brown  and  I,  reclining  at  the 
foot  of  the  tree,  were  looking  at  the  still  and  starry 
surface  of  the  lake,  over  which  numbers  of  bats  were 
darting  after  insects;  and  I  recollect  that  I  was  just 
about  to  speak,  when,  of  a  sudden,  the  silent  and 
luminous  surface  of  the  water  was  shattered  as  with 
a  subterranean  explosion;  a  geyser  of  scintillating 
spray  shot  upward  flashing,  foaming,  towering  a 
hundred  feet  into  the  air.  And  through  it  I  seemed 
to  catch  a  glimpse  of  a  vast,  quivering,  twisting  mass 
of  silver  falling  back  with  a  crash  into  the  lake,  while 
the  huge  fountain  rained  spray  on  every  side  and 
the  little  lake  rocked  and  heaved  from  shore  to  shore, 
sending  great  sheets  of  surf  up  over  the  rocks  so 
high  that  the  very  tree-tops  dripped. 

Petrified,  dumb,  our  senses  almost  paralyzed  by 
the  shock,  our  ears  still  deafened  by  the  watery 
crash  of  that  gigantic  something  that  had  fallen  into 
the  lake,  and  our  eyes  starting  from  their  sockets, 
we  stared  at  the  darkness. 

Slap— slash — slush  went  the  waves,  hitting  the 
shore  with  a  clashing  sound  almost  metallic.  Vision 
and  hearing  told  us  that  the  water  in  the  lake  was 
rocking  like  the  contents  of  a  bath-tub. 

10  125 


Police!  !  ! 


"G-g-good  Lord!"  whispered  Brown.  "Is  there 
a  v-volcano  under  that  lake?" 

"Did  you  see  that  huge,  glittering  shape  that 
seemed  to  fall  into  the  water?"  I  gasped. 

"Yes.    What  was  it?  A  meteor?" 

"No.  It  was  something  that  first  came  out  of  the 
lake  and  fell  back — the  way  a  trout  leaps.  Heavens ! 
It  couldn't  have  been  alive,  could  it?" 

"W-wh-what  do  you  mean?"  stammered  Brown. 

"It  couldn't  have  been  a  f-f-fish,  could  it?"  I 
asked  with  chattering  teeth. 

"No !  No !  It  was  as  big  as  a  Pullman  car !  It 
must  have  been  a  falling  star.  Did  you  ever  hear 
of  a  fish  as  big  as  a  sleeping  car?" 

I  was  too  thoroughly  unnerved  to  reply.  The 
roaring  of  the  surf  had  subsided  somewhat,  enough 
for  another  sound  to  reach  our  ears — a  raucous, 
gallinacious,  squawking  sound. 

I  sprang  up  and  looked  at  the  row  of  tents. 
White-robed  figures  loomed  in  front  of  them.  The 
heavy  artillery  was  evidently  frightened. 

We  \vent  over  to  them,  and  when  we  got  nearer 
they  chastely  scuttled  into  their  tents  and  thrust  out 
a  row  of  heads — heads  hideous  with  curl-papers. 

126 


"  The  heavy  artillery  was  evidently 
frightened." 


Police!  !  ! 


"What  was  that  awful  noise?  An  earthquake?" 
shrilled  the  Reverend  Dr.  Jones.  "I  think  I'll  go 
home." 

"Was  it  an  avalanche?"  demanded  Mrs.  Batt,  in 
a  deep  and  shaky  voice.  "Are  we  in  any  immediate 
danger,  young  man?" 

I  said  that  it  was  probably  a  flying-star  which  had 
happened  to  strike  the  lake  and  explode. 

"What  an  awful  region!"  wailed  Miss  Dingle- 
heimer.  "I've  had  my  money's  worth.  I  wish  to  go 
back  to  New  York  at  once.  I'll  begin  to  dress  im 
mediately " 

"It  might  be  a  million  years  before  another  me 
teor  falls  in  this  latitude,"  I  said,  soothingly. 

"Or  it  might  be  ten  minutes,"  sobbed  Miss  Dingle- 
heimer.  "What  do  you  know  about  it,  anyway !  I 
want  to  go  home.  I'm  putting  on  my  stockings  now. 
I'm  getting  dressed  as  fast  as  I  can " 

Her  voice  was  blotted  out  in  a  mighty  crash  from 
the  lake.  Appalled,  I  whirled  on  my  heel,  just  in 
time  to  see  another  huge  jet  of  water  rise  high  in 
the  starlight,  another,  another,  until  the  entire  lake 
was  but  a  cluster  of  gigantic  geysers  exploding  a 
hundred  feet  in  the  air,  while  through  them,  falling 

128 


The  Ladles  of  the  Lake 


back  into  the  smother  of  furious  foam,  great  silvery 
bulks  dropped  crashing,  one  after  another. 

I  don't  know  how  long  the  incredible  vision 
lasted;  the  woods  roared  with  the  infernal  pande 
monium,  echoed  and  re-echoed  from  mountain  to 
mountain;  the  tree-tops  fairly  stormed  spray,  driv 
ing  it  in  sheets  through  the  leaves;  and  the  shores 
of  the  lake  spouted  surf  long  after  the  last  vast, 
silvery  shape  had  fallen  back  again  into  the 
water. 

As  my  senses  gradually  recovered,  I  found  myself 
supporting  Mrs.  Batt  on  one  arm  and  the  Reverend 
Dr.  Jones  upon  my  bosom.  Both  had  fainted.  1 
released  them  with  a  shudder  and  turned  to  look  for 
Brown. 

Somebody  had  swooned  in  his  arms,  too. 

He  was  not  noticing  me,  and  as  I  approached  him 
I  heard  him  say  something  resembling  the  word 
"kitten." 

In  spite  of  my  demoralization,  another  fear  seized 
me,  and  I  drew  nearer  and  peered  closely  at  what  he 
was  holding  so  nobly  in  his  arms.  It  was,  as  I  sup 
posed,  Angelica  White. 

I  don't  know  whether  my  arrival  occultly  revived 

129 


Police!  !  ! 


her,  for  as  I  stumbled  over  a  tent-peg  she  opened  her 
blue  eyes,  and  then  disengaged  herself  from  Brown's 
arms. 

"Oh,  I  am  so  frightened,"  she  murmured.  She 
looked  at  me  sideways  when  she  said  it. 

"Come,"  said  I  coldly  to  Brown,  "let  Miss  White 
retire  and  lie  down.  This  meteoric  shower  is  over 
and  so  is  the  danger." 

He  evinced  a  desire  to  further  soothe  and  minister 
to  Miss  White,  but  she  said,  with  considerable  com 
posure,  that  she  was  feeling  better ;  and  Brown  came 
unwillingly  with  me  to  inspect  the  heavy  artillery 
lines. 

That  formidable  battery  was  wrecked,  the  pieces 
dismounted  and  lying  tumbled  about  in  their  em 
placements. 

But  a  vigorous  course  of  cold  water  in  dippers  re 
vived  them,  and  we  herded  them  into  one  tent  and 
quieted  them  with  some  soothing  prevarication,  the 
details  of  which  I  have  forgotten ;  but  it  was  some 
thing  about  a  flock  of  meteors  which  hit  the  earth 
every  twelve  billion  years,  and  that  it  was  now  all 
over  for  another  such  interim,  and  everybody  could 
sleep  soundly  with  the  consciousness  of  having  as- 

130 


"  Somebody  had  swooned  in  his  arms,  too." 


Police!  !  ! 


sisted  at  a  spectacle  never  before  beheld  except  by  a 
primordial  protoplasmic  cell. 

Which  flattered  them,  I  think,  for,  seated  once 
more  at  the  base  of  our  tree,  presently  we  heard 
weird  noises  from  the  reconcentrados,  like  the  moan 
ing  of  the  harbour  bar. 

They  slept,  the  heavy  guns,  like  unawakened  en 
gines  of  destruction  all  a-row  in  battery.  But 
Brown  and  I,  fearfully  excited,  still  dazed  and  be 
wildered,  sat  with  our  fascinated  eyes  fixed  on  the 
lake,  asking  each  other  what  in  the  name  of  miracles 
it  was  that  we  had  witnessed  and  heard. 

On  one  thing  we  were  agreed.  A  scientific  dis 
covery  of  the  most  enormous  importance  awaited 
our  investigation. 

This  was  no  time  for  temporising,  for  deception, 
for  any  species  of  polite  shilly-shallying.  We  must, 
on  the  morrow,  tear  off  our  masks  and  appear  be 
fore  these  misguided  and  feminine  victims  of  our 
duplicity  in  our  own  characters  as  scientists.  We 
must  boldly  avow  our  identities  and  flatly  refuse  to 
stir  from  this  spot  until  the  mystery  of  this  astound 
ing  lake  had  been  thoroughly  investigated. 

And  so,  discussing  our  policy,  our  plans  for  the 

132 


The  Ladies  of  the  Lake 


morrow,  and  mutually  reassuring  each  other  con 
cerning  our  common  ability  to  successfully  defy  the 
heavy  artillery,  we  finally  fell  asleep. 


Ill 


DAWN   awoke   me,   and   I    sat   up   in   my 
blanket  and  aroused  Brown. 

No  birds  were  singing.  It  seemed  un 
usual,  and  I  spoke  of  it  to  Brown.  Never  have  I 
witnessed  such  a  still,  strange  daybreak.  Moun 
tains,  woods,  and  water  were  curiously  silent.  There 
was  not  a  sound  to  be  heard,  nothing  stirred  except 
the  thin  veil  of  vapour  over  the  water,  shreds  of 
which  were  now  parting  from  the  shore  and  steam 
ing  slowly  upward. 

There  was,  it  seemed  to  me,  something  slightly 
uncanny  about  this  lake,  even  in  repose.  The  water 
seemed  as  translucent  as  a  dark  crystal,  and  as  mo 
tionless  as  the  surface  of  a  mirror.  Nothing  stirred 
its  placid  surface,  not  a  ripple,  not  an  insect,  not  a 
leaf  floating. 

Brown  had  lugged  the  pneumatic  raft  down  to  the 


Police!  !  ! 


shore  where  he  was  now  pumping  it  full :  I  followed 
with  the  paddles,  pole,  and  hydroscope.  When  the 
raft  had  been  pumped  up  and  was  afloat,  we  carried 
the  reel  of  gossamer  piano-wire  aboard,  followed  it, 
pushed  off,  and  paddled  quietly  through  the  level 
cobwebs  of  mist  toward  the  centre  of  the  lake.  From 
the  shore  I  heard  a  gruesome  noise.  It  originated 
under  one  of  the  row  of  tents  of  the  heavy  artillery. 
Medusa,  snoring,  was  an  awesome  sound  in  that 
wilderness  and  solitude  of  dawn. 

I  was  unscrewing  the  centre-plug  from  the  raft 
and  screwing  into  the  empty  socket  the  lens  of  the 
hydroscope  and  attaching  the  battery,  while  Brown 
started  his  sounding;  and  I  \vas  still  busy  when  an 
exclamation  from  my  companion  started  me: 

"We're  breaking  some  records !  Do  you  know  it, 
Smith?'' 

"Where  is  the  lead?" 

"Three  hundred  fathoms  and  still  running!" 

"Nonsense!" 

"Look  at  it  yourself!  It  goes  on  unreeling:  I've 
put  the  drag  on.  Hurry  and  adjust  the  hydroscope !" 

I  sighted  the  powerful  instrument  for  two  thou 
sand  feet,  altering  it  from  minute  to  minute  as 

134 


The  Ladies  of  the  Lake 


Brown  excitedly  announced  the  amazing  depth  of 
the  lake.  When  he  called  out  four  thousand  feet,  I 
stared  at  him. 

"There's  something  wrong — "  I  began. 

"There's  nothing  wrong!"  he  interrupted.  "Four 
thousand  five  hundred !  Five  thousand !  Five  thou 
sand  five  hundred " 

"Are  you  squatting  there  and  trying  to  tell  me 
that  this  lake  is  over  a  mile  deep !" 

"Look  for  yourself !"  he  said  in  an  unsteady  voice. 
"Here  is  the  tape !  You  can  read,  can't  you  ?  Six 
thousand  feet — and  running  evenly.  Six  thousand 
five  hundred!  .  .  .  Seven  thousand!  Seven  thou 
sand  five " 

"It  can't  be !"  I  protested. 

But  it  was  true.  Astounded,  I  continued  to  ad 
just  the  hydroscope  to  a  range  incredible,  turning 
the  screw  to  focus  at  a  mile  and  a  half,  at  two  miles, 
at  two  and  a  quarter,  a  half,  three-quarters,  three 
miles,  three  miles  and  a  quarter — click ! 

"Good  Heavens!"  he  whispered.  "This  lake  is 
three  miles  and  a  quarter  deep!" 

Mechanically  I  set  the  lachet,  screwed  the  hood 
firm,  drew  out  the  black  eye-mask,  locked  it,  then, 

135 


Police!  !  ! 


kneeling  on  the  raft  I  rested  my  face  in  the  mask, 
felt  for  the  lever,  and  switched  on  the  electric  light. 

Quicker  than  thought  the  solid  lance  of  dazzling 
light  plunged  down  through  profundity,  and  the 
vast  abyss  of  water  was  revealed  along  its  path 
way. 

Nothing  moved  in  those  tremendous  depths  ex 
cept,  nearly  two  miles  below,  a  few  spots  of  tinsel 
glittered  and  drifted  like  flakes  of  mica. 

At  first  I  scarcely  noticed  them,  supposing  them 
to  be  vast  beds  of  silvery  bottom  sand  glittering 
under  the  electric  pencil  of  the  hydroscope.  But 
presently  it  occurred  to  me  that  these  brilliant 
specks  in  motion  were  not  on  the  bottom — were  a 
little  less  than  two  miles  deep,  and  therefore  sus 
pended. 

To  be  seen  at  all,  at  two  miles'  depth,  whatever 
they  were  they  must  have  considerable  bulk. 

"Do  you  see  anything?"  demanded  Brown. 

"Some  silvery  specks  at  a  depth  of  two  miles." 

"What  do  they  look  like?" 

"Specks." 

"Are  they  in  motion?" 

"They  seem  to  be." 

136 


The  Ladies  of  the  Lake 


"Do  they  come  any  nearer  ?" 

After  a  while  I  answered : 

"One  of  the  specks  seems  to  be  growing  larger 
....  I  believe  it  is  in  motion  and  is  floating  slowly 
upward.  .  .  .  It's  certainly  getting  bigger.  .  .  . 
It's  getting  longer." 

"Is  it  a  fish?" 

"It  can't  be." 

"Why  not?" 

"It's  impossible.  Fish  don't  attain  the  size  of 
whales  in  mountain  ponds." 

There  was  a  silence.    After  an  interval  I  said : 

"Brown,  I  don't  know  what  to  make  of  that 
thing." 

"Is  it  coming  any  nearer?" 

"Yes." 

"What  does  it  look  like  now?" 

"It  looks  like  a  fish.  But  it  can't  be.  It  looks  like 
a  tiny,  silver  minnow.  But  it  can't  be.  Why,  if  it 
resembles  a  minnow  in  size  at  this  distance — what 
can  be  its  actual  dimensions?" 

"Let  me  look,"  he  said. 

Unwillingly  I  raised  my  head  from  the  mask  and 
yielded  him  my  place. 

137 


Police!  !  ! 


A  long  silence  followed.  The  western  mountain- 
tops  reddened  under  the  rising  sun;  the  sky  grew 
faintly  bluer.  Yet,  there  was  not  a  bird-note  in 
that  still  place,  not  a  flash  of  wings,  nothing  stir 
ring. 

Here  and  there  along  the  lake  shore  I  noticed  un 
usual-looking  trees — very  odd-looking  trees  indeed, 
for  their  trunks  seemed  bleached  and  dead,  and  as 
though  no  bark  covered  them,  yet  every  stark  limb 
was  covered  with  foliage — a  thick  foliage  so  dark 
in  colour  that  it  seemed  black  to  me. 

I  glanced  at  my  motionless  companion  where  he 
knelt  with  his  face  in  the  mask,  then  I  unslung  my 
field-glasses  and  focussed  them  on  the  nearest  of  the 
curious  trees. 

At  first  I  could  not  quite  make  out  what  I  was 
looking  at;  then,  to  my  astonishment,  I  saw  that 
these  stark,  gray  trees  were  indeed  lifeless,  and  that 
what  I  had  mistaken  for  dark  foliage  were  velvety 
clusters  of  bats  hanging  there  asleep — thousands  of 
them  thickly  infesting  and  clotting  the  dead  branches 
with  a  sombre  and  horrid  effect  of  foliage. 

I  don't  mind  bats  in  ordinary  numbers.  But  in 
such  soft,  motionless  masses  they  slightly  sickened 

138 


The  Ladles  of  the  Lake 


me.  There  must  have  been  literally  tons  of  them 
hanging  to  the  dead  trees. 

"This  is  pleasant,"  I  said.  "Look  at  those  bats, 
Brown." 

When  Brown  spoke  without  lifting  his  head,  his 
voice  was  so  shaken,  so  altered,  that  the  mere  sound 
of  it  scared  me  : 

"Smith,"  he  said,  "there  is  a  fish  in  here,  shaped 
exactly  like  a  brook  minnow.  And  I  should  judge, 
by  the  depth  it  is  swimming  in,  that  it  is  about  as 
long  as  an  ordinary  Pullman  car." 

His  voice  shook,  but  his  words  were  calm  to  the 
point  of  commonplace.  Which  made  the  effect  of 
his  statement  all  the  more  terrific. 

"A — a  minnoiv — as  big  as  a  Pullman  car?"  I 
repeated,  dazed. 

"Larger,  I  think.  ...  It  looks  to  me  through  the 
hydroscope,  at  this  distance,  exactly  like  a  tiny, 
silvery  minnow.  It's  half  a  mile  down.  .  .  .  Swim 
ming  about.  ...  I  can  see  its  eyes;  they  must  be 
about  ten  feet  in  diameter  I  can  see  its  fins  moving. 
And  there  are  about  a  dozen  others,  much  deeper, 
swimming  around.  .  .  .  This  is  easily  the  most 
overwhelming  contribution  made  to  science  since  the 

139 


Police!  !  ! 


discovery  of  the  purple-spotted  dingle-bock,  Bukkus 
dinglii.  .  .  .  We've  got  to  catch  one  of  those  gi 
gantic  fish !" 

"How  ?"  I  gasped.  "How  are  we  going  to  catch 
a  minnow  as  large  as  a  sleeping  car?" 

"I  don't  know,  but  we've  got  to  do  it.  We've  got 
to  manage  it,  somehow." 

"It  would  require  a  steel  cable  to  hold  such  a  fish 
and  a  donkey  engine  to  reel  him  in!  And  what 
about  a  hook?  And  if  we  had  hook,  line,  steam- 
winch,  and  everything  else,  what  about  bait?" 

He  knelt  for  some  time  longer,  watching  the  fish, 
before  he  resigned  the  hydroscope  to  me.  Then  I 
watched  it ;  but  it  came  no  nearer,  seeming  contented 
to  swim  about  at  the  depth  of  a  little  more  than  half 
a  mile.  Deep  under  this  fish  I  could  see  others  glit 
tering  as  they  sailed  or  darted  to  and  fro. 

Presently  I  raised  my  head  and  sat  thinking.  The 
sun  now  gilded  the  water;  a  little  breeze  ruffled  it 
here  and  there  where  dainty  cat's-paws  played  over 
the  surface. 

"What  on  earth  do  you  suppose  those  gigantic 
fish  feed  on?"  asked  Brown  under  his  breath. 

I  thought  a  moment  longer,  then  it  came  to  me  in 

140 


The  Ladies  of  the  Lake 


a  flash  of  understanding,  and  I  pointed  at  the  dead 
trees. 

"Bats  !"  I  muttered.  'They  feed  on  bats  as  other 
fish  feed  on  the  little,  gauzy-winged  flies  which  dance 
over  ponds!  You  saw  those  bats  flying  over  the 
pond  last  night,  didn't  you?  That  explains  the 
whole  thing!  Don't  you  understand?  Why,  what 
we  saw  were  these  gigantic  fish  leaping  like  trout 
after  the  bats.  It  was  their  feeding  time !" 

I  do  not  imagine  that  two  more  excited  scientists 
ever  existed  than  Brown  and  I.  The  joy  of  dis 
covery  transfigured  us.  Here  we  had  discovered  a 
lake  in  the  Thunder  Mountains  which  was  the  deep 
est  lake  in  the  world ;  and  it  was  inhabited  by  a  few 
gigantic  fish  of  the  minnow  species,  the  existence  of 
which,  hitherto,  had  never  even  been  dreamed  of  by 
science. 

"Kitten,"  I  said,  my  voice  broken  by  emotion, 
"which  will  you  have  named  after  you,  the  lake  or 
the  fish?  Shall  it  be  Lake  Kitten  Brown,  or  shall 
it  be  Minnius  kitteniif  Speak!" 

'  'What  about  that  old  party  whose  name  you  said 
had  already  been  given  to  the  lake?"  he  asked  pite- 
ously. 

11  141 


Police!  !  ! 


"Who?  Mrs.  Batt?  Do  you  think  I'd  name  such 
an  important  lake  after  her?  Anyway,  she  has  de 
clined  the  honour." 

"Very  well,"  he  said,  "I'll  accept  it.  And  the  fish 
shall  be  known  as  Minnius  Smithii!" 

Too  deeply  moved  to  speak,  we  bent  over  and 
shook  hands  with  each  other.  In  that  solemn  and 
holy  moment,  surcharged  with  ecstatic  emotion, 
a  deep,  distant  reverberation  came  across  the 
water  to  our  ears.  It  was  the  heavy  artillery,  snor 
ing. 

Never  can  I  forget  that  scene ;  sunshine  glittering 
on  the  pond,  the  silent  forests  and  towering  peaks, 
the  blue  sky  overhead,  the  dead  trees  where  thou 
sands  of  bats  hung  in  nauseating  clusters,  thicker 
than  the  leaves  in  Valembrosa — and  Kitten  Brown 
and  I,  cross-legged  upon  our  pneumatic  raft,  hands 
clasped  in  pledge  of  deathless  devotion  to  science 
and  a  fraternity  unending. 

"And  how  about  that  girl?"  he  asked. 

"What  girl?" 

"Angelica  White?" 

"Well,"  said  I,  "what  about  her?" 

"Does  she  go  with  the  lake  or  with  the  fish  ?" 

142 


The  Ladies  of  the  Lake 


"What  do  you  mean  ?"  I  asked  coldly,  withdraw 
ing  my  hand  from  his  clasp. 

"I  mean,  which  of  us  gets  the  first  chance  to  win 
her?"  he  said,  blushing.  "There's  no  use  denying 
that  we  both  have  been  bowled  over  by  her;  is 
there?" 

I  pondered  for  several  moments. 

"She  is  an  extremely  intelligent  girl,"  I  said, 
stalling. 

"Yes,  and  then  some." 

After  a  few  minutes'  further  thought,  I  said: 

"Possibly  I  am  in  error,  but  at  moments  it  has 
seemed  to  me  that  my  marked  attentions  to  Miss 
White  are  not  wholly  displeasing  to  her.  I  may  be 
mistaken " 

"I  think  you  are,  Smith." 

"Why?" 

"Because — well,  because  I  seem  to  think  so." 

I  said  coldly : 

"Because  she  happened  to  faint  away  in  your 
arms  last  night  is  no  symptom  that  she  prefers  you, 
Is  it?" 

"No." 

"Then  why  do  you  seem  to  think  that  tactful,  del- 

143 


Police!  !  ! 


icate,  and  assiduous  attentions  on  my  part  may 
prove  not  entirely  unwelcome  to  this  unusually  in 
telligent " 

"Smith!" 

"What?" 

"Miss  White  is  not  only  a  trained  nurse,  but 
she  also  is  about  to  receive  her  diploma  as  a  phy 
sician." 

"How  do  you  know?" 

"She  told  me." 

"When?" 

"When  you  were  building  the  fire  last  night. 
Also,  she  informed  me  that  she  had  relentlessly  ded 
icated  herself  to  a  eugenic  marriage." 

"When  did  she  tell  you  that?" 

"While  you  were  bringing  in  a  bucket  of  water 
from  the  lake  last  night.  And  furthermore,  she  told 
me  that  /  was  perfectly  suited  for  a  eugenic  mar 
riage." 

"When  did  she  tell  you  that?"  I  demanded. 

"When  she  had — fainted — in  my  arms." 

"How  the  devil  did  she  come  to  say  a  thing  like 
that?" 

He  became  conspicuously  red  about  the  ears : 

144 


The  Ladies  of  the  Lake 


"Well,  I  had  just  told  her  that  I  had  fallen  in  love 
with  her " 

"Damn  I"  I  said.  And  that's  all  I  said ;  and  seiz 
ing  a  paddle  I  made  furiously  for  shore.  Behind 
me  I  heard  the  whirr  of  the  piano  wire  as  Brown 
started  the  electric  reel.  Later  I  heard  him  clamp 
ing  the  hood  on  the  hydroscope ;  but  I  was  too  dis 
gusted  for  any  further  words,  and  I  dug  away  at  the 
water  with  my  paddle. 

In  various  and  weird  stages  of  morning  deshabille 
the  heavy  artillery  came  down  to  the  shore  for  morn 
ing  ablutions,  all  a-row  like  a  file  of  ducks. 

They  glared  at  me  as  I  leaped  ashore : 

"I  want  my  breakfast!"  snapped  Mrs.  Batt.  "Do 
you  hear  what  I  say,  guide?  And  I  don't  wish 
to  be  kept  waiting  for  it  either !  I  desire  to  get  out 
of  this  place  as  soon  as  possible." 

"I'm  sorry,"  I  said,  "but  I  intend  to  stay  here  for 
some  time." 

"What!"  bawled  the  heavy  artillery  in  booming 
unison. 

But  my  temper  had  been  sorely  tried,  and  I  was 
in  a  mood  to  tell  the  truth  and  make  short  work  of 
it,  too. 

145 


Police!!! 


"Ladies,"  I  said,  "I'll  not  mince  matters.  Mr. 
Brown  and  I  are  not  guides ;  we  are  scientists  from 
Bronx  Park,  and  we  don't  know  a  bally  thing  about 
this  wilderness  we're  in !" 

"Swindler!"  shouted  Mrs.  Batt,  in  an  enraged 
voice.  "I  knew  very  well  that  the  United  States 
Government  would  never  have  named  that  puddle 
of  water  after  me!" 

"Don't  worry,  madam!  I've  named  it  after  Mr. 
Brown.  And  the  new  species  of  gigantic  fish  which 
I  discovered  in  this  lake  I  have  named  after  myself. 
As  for  leaving  this  spot  until  I  have  concluded  my 
scientific  study  of  these  fish,  I  simply  won't.  I  in 
tend  to  observe  their  habits  and  to  capture  one  of 
them  if  it  requires  the  remainder  of  my  natural  life 
to  do  so.  I  shall  be  sorry  to  detain  you  here  during 
such  a  period,  but  it  can't  be  helped.  And  now  you 
know  what  the  situation  is,  and  you  are  at  liberty 
to  think  it  over  after  you  have  washed  your  counte 
nances  in  Lake  Kitten  Brown." 

Rage  possessed  the  heavy  artillery,  and  a  fury  in 
describable  seized  them  when  they  discovered  that 
Indians  had  raided  their  half  ton  of  feminine  per 
quisites.  I  went  up  a  tree. 

146 


:  If  you  keep  me  up  this  tree  and  starve  me  to  death 
it  will  be  murder.' " 


Police!  !  ! 


When  the  tumult  had  calmed  sufficiently  for  them 
to  distinguish  what  I  said,  I  made  a  speech  to  them. 
From  the  higher  branches  of  a  neighboring  tree  Kit 
ten  Brown  applauded  and  cried,  "Hear !  Hear !" 

"Ladies,"  I  said,  "you  know  the  worst,  now.  If 
you  keep  me  up  this  tree  and  starve  me  to  death  it 
will  be  murder.  Also,  you  don't  know  enough  to 
get  out  of  these  forests,  but  I  can  guide  you  back  the 
way  you  came.  I'll  do  it  if  you  cease  your  danger 
ous  demonstrations  and  permit  Mr.  Brown  and  my 
self  to  remain  here  and  study  these  giant  fish  for  a 
week  or  two." 

They  now  seemed  disposed  to  consider  the  idea. 
There  was  nothing  else  for  them  to  do.  So  after 
an  hour  or  two,  Brown  and  I  ventured  to  descend 
from  our  trees,  and  we  went  among  them  to  placate 
them  and  ingratiate  ourselves  as  best  we  might. 

"Think,"  I  argued,  "what  a  matchless  oppor 
tunity  for  you  to  be  among  the  first  discoverers  of  a 
totally  new  and  undescribed  species  of  giant  fish! 
Think  what  a  legacy  it  will  be  to  leave  such  a 
record  to  posterity!  Think  how  proud  and  happy 
your  descendants  will  be  to  know  that  their  ances 
tors  assisted  at  the  discovery  of  Minnius  Smithii!" 

148 


The  Ladles  of  the  Lake 


"Why  can't  they  be  named  after  me?"  demanded 
Mrs.  Batt 

"Because,"  I  explained  patiently,  "they  have  al 
ready  been  named  after  me!" 

"Couldn't  something  be  named  after  me?"  in 
quired  that  fearsome  lady. 

"The  bats,"  suggested  Brown  politely,  "we  could 
name  a  bat  after  you  with  pleasure " 

I  thought  for  a  moment  she  meant  to  swing  on 
him.  He  thought  so,  too,  and  ducked. 

"A  bat!"  she  shouted.    "Name  a  bat  after  me!" 

"Many  a  celebrated  scientist  has  been  honoured 
by  having  his  name  conferred  upon  humbler 
fauna,"  I  explained. 

But  she  remained  dangerous,  so  I  went  and  built 
the  fire,  and  squatted  there,  frying  bacon,  while  on 
the  other  side  of  the  fire,  sitting  side  by  side,  Kitten 
Brown  and  Angelica  White  gazed  upon  each  other 
with  enraptured  eyes.  It  was  slightly  sickening — 
but  let  that  pass.  I  was  beginning  to  understand 
that  science  is  a  jealous  mistress  and  that  any  con 
templated  infidelity  of  mine  stood  every  chance  of 
being  squelched.  No;  evidently  ll  had  not  been 
fashioned  for  the  joys  of  legal  domesticity. 

149 


Police!  !  ! 


Science,  the  wanton  jade,  had  not  yet  finished  her 
dance  with  me.  Apparently  my  maxixe  with  her 
was  to  be  external.  Fides  servanda  est. 

That  afternoon  the  heavy  artillery  held  a  council 
of  war,  and  evidently  came  to  a  conclusion  to  make 
the  best  of  the  situation,  for  toward  sundown  they 
accosted  me  with  a  request  for  the  raft,  explaining 
that  they  desired  to  picnic  aboard  and  afterward 
row  about  the  lake  and  indulge  in  song. 

So  Brown  and  I  put  aboard  the  craft  a  sub 
stantial  cold  supper;  and  the  heavy  artillery  em 
barked,  taking  aboard  a  guitar  to  be  worked  by 
Miss  Dingleheimer,  and  knitting  for  the  others. 

It  was  a  lovely  evening.  Brown  and  I  had  been 
discussing  a  plan  to  dynamite  the  lake  and  stun  the 
fish,  that  method  appealing  to  us  as  the  only  pos 
sible  way  to  secure  a  specimen  of  the  stupendous 
minnows  which  inhabited  the  depths.  In  fact,  it 
was  our  only  hope  of  possessing  one  of  these  crea 
tures — fishing  with  a  donkey  engine,  steel  cable, 
and  a  hook  baited  with  a  bat  being  too  uncertain 
and  far  more  laborious  and  expensive. 

I  was  still  smoking  my  pipe,  seated  at  the  foot  of 

150 


The  Ladies  of  the  Lake 


the  big  pine-tree,  watching  the  water  turn  from 
gold  to  pink:  Brown  sat  higher  up  the  slope,  his 
arm  around  Angelica  White.  I  carefully  kept  my 
back  toward  them. 

On  the  lake  the  heavy  artillery  were  revelling 
loudly,  banqueting,  singing,  strumming  the  guitar, 
and  trailing  their  hands  overboard  across  the  sun 
set-tinted  water. 

I  was  thinking  of  nothing  in  particular  as  I  now 
remember,  except  that  I  noticed  the  bats  beginning 
to  flit  over  the  lake;  when  Brown  called  to  me 
from  the  slope  above,  asking  whether  it  was  per 
fectly  safe  for  the  heavy  artillery  to  remain  out  so 
late. 

"Why?"  I  demanded. 

"Suppose,"  he  shouted,  "that  those  fish  should 
begin  to  jump  and  feed  on  the  bats  again?" 

I  had  never  thought  of  that. 

I  rose  and  hurried  nervously  down  to  the  shore, 
and,  making  a  megaphone  of  my  hands,  I  shouted : 

"Come  in!  It  isn't  safe  to  remain  out  any 
longer!" 

Scornful  laughter  from  the  artillery  answered 
my  appeal. 


Police!!! 


"You'd  bettei  come  in!"  I  called.  "You  can't 
tell  what  might  happen  if  any  of  those  fish  should 
jump.'* 

"Mind  your  business!"  retorted  Mrs.  Batt. 
"We've  had  enough  of  your  prevarications " 

Then,  suddenly,  without  the  faintest  shadow  of 
warning,  from  the  centre  of  the  lake  a  vast  geyser 
of  water  towered  a  hundred  feet  in  the  air. 

For  one  dreadful  second  I  saw  the  raft  hurled 
skyward,  balanced  on  the  crest  of  the  stupendous 
fountain,  spilling  ladies,  supper,  guitars,  and  knit 
ting  in  every  direction. 

Then  a  horrible  thing  occurred;  fish  after  fish 
shot  up  out  of  the  storm  of  water  and  foam,  seiz 
ing,  as  they  fell,  ladies,  luncheon,  and  knitting  in 
mid-air,  falling  back  with  a  crashing  shock  which 
seemed  to  rock  the  very  mountains. 

"Help!"  I  screamed.    And  fainted  dead  away. 

Is  it  necessary  to  proceed?  Literature  nods; 
Science  shakes  her  head.  No,  nothing  but  litera 
ture  lies  beyond  the  ripples  which  splashed  musically 
upon  the  shore,  terminating  forever  the  last  vibra 
tion  from  that  immeasurable  catastrophe. 

152 


"Then  a  horrible  thing  occurred." 


The  Ladies  of  the  Lake 


Why  should  I  go  on?  The  newspapers  of  the 
nation  have  recorded  the  last  scenes  of  the  tragedy. 

We  know  that  tons  of  dynamite  are  being  for 
warded  to  that  solitary  lake.  We  know  that  it  is 
the  determination  of  the  Government  to  rid  the 
world  of  those  gigantic  minnows. 

And  yet,  somehow,  it  seems  to  me  as  I  sit  writ 
ing  here  in  my  office,  amid  the  ve/dure  of  Bronx 
Park,  that  the  destruction  of  these  enormous  fish  is 
a  mistake. 

What  more  splendid  sarcophagus  could  the  ladies 
of  the  lake  desire  than  these  huge,  silvery,  itinerant 
and  living  tombs? 

What  reward  more  sumptuous  could  anybody 
wish  for  than  to  rest  at  last  within  the  interior 
dimness  of  an  absolutely  new  species  of  any 
thing? 

For  me,  such  a  final  repose  as  this  would  repre 
sent  the  highest  pinnacle  of  sublimity,  the  uttermost 
zenith  of  mortal  dignity. 

So  what  more  is  there  for  me  to  say? 
As   for  Angelica — but  no  matter.     I  hope  she 
may  be  comparatively  happy  with  Kitten  Brown. 

153 


Police!  !  ! 


Yet,  as  I  have  said  before,  handsome  men  never 
last.  But  she  should  have  thought  of  that  in 
time. 

I  absolve  myself  of  all  responsibility.     She  had 
her  chance. 


ONE   OVER 


ONE    OVER 


PROFESSOR  FARRAGO  had  remarked  to 
me  that  morning: 

"The  city  of  New  York  always  reminds 
me  of  a  slovenly,  fat  woman  with  her  dress  unbut 
toned  behind." 
I  nodded. 
"New  York's  architecture,"  said  I,  " — or  what 

12  157 


Police!  !  ! 


popularly  passes  for  it — is  all  in  front.  The  min 
ute  you  get  to  the  rear  a  pitiable  condition  is  ex 
posed." 

He  said :  "Professor  Jane  Bottomly  is  all  fagade ; 
the  remainder  of  her  is  merely  an  occiputal  back 
yard  full  of  theoretical  tin  cans  and  broken  bottles. 
I  think  we  all  had  better  resign." 

It  was  a  fearsome  description.  I  trembled  as  I 
lighted  an  inexpehsive  cigar. 

The  sentimental  feminist  movement  in  America 
was  clearly  at  the  bottom  of  the  Bottomly  affair. 

Long  ago,  in  a  reactionary  burst  of  hysteria,  the 
North  enfranchised  the  Ethiopian.  In  a  similar 
sentimental  explosion  of  dementia,  some  sixty  years 
later,  the  United  States  wept  violently  over  the 
immemorial  wrongs  perpetrated  upon  the  restless 
sex,  opened  the  front  and  back  doors  of  opportu 
nity,  and  sobbed  out,  "Go  to  it,  ladies !" 

They  are  still  going. 

Professor  Jane  Bottomly  was  wished  on  us  out 
of  a  pleasant  April  sky.  She  fell  like  a  meteoric 
mass  of  molten  metal  upon  the  Bronx  Park  Zoologi 
cal  Society  splashing  her  excoriating  personality 
over  everybody  until  everybody  writhed. 

158 


One  Over 


I  had  not  yet  seen  the  lady.  I  did  not  care  to. 
Sooner  or  later  I'd  be  obliged  to  meet  her  but  I 
was  not  impatient. 

Now  the  Field  Expeditionary  Force  of  the  Bronx 
Park  Zoological  Society  is,  perhaps,  the  most  im 
portant  arm  of  the  service.  Professor  Bottomly 
had  just  been  appointed  official  head  of  all  field 
work.  Why?  Nobody  knew.  It  is  true  that  she 
had  written  several  combination  nature  and  love 
romances.  In  these  popular  volumes  trees,  flowers, 
butterflies,  birds,  animals,  dialect,  sobs,  and  sun- 
bonnets  were  stirred  up  together  into  a  saccharine 
mess  eagerly  gulped  down  by  a  provincial  reading 
public,  which  immediately  protruded  its  tongue  for 
more. 

The  news  of  her  impending  arrival  among  us 
was  an  awful  blow  to  everybody  at  the  Bronx. 
Professor  Farrago  fainted  in  the  arms  of  his  pretty 
stenographer;  Professor  Cornelius  Lezard  of  the 
Batrachian  Department  ran  around  his  desk  all  day 
long  in  narrowing  circles  and  ^was  discovered  on  his 
stomach  still  feebly  squirming  like  an  expiring  top; 
Dr.  Hans  Fooss,  our  beloved  Professor  of  Pachy- 
dermatology  sat  for  hours  weeping  into  his  noodle 

159 


Police!  I ! 


soup.  As  for  me,  I  was  both  furious  and  fright 
ened,  for,  within  the  hearing  of  several  people,  Pro 
fessor  Bottomly  had  remarked  in  a  very  clear  voice 
to  her  new  assistant,  Dr.  Daisy  Delmour,  that  she 
intended  to  get  rid  of  me  for  the  good  of  the  Bronx 
because  of  my  reputation  for  indiscreet  gallantry 
among  the  feminine  employees  of  the  Bronx  So 
ciety. 

Professor  Lezard  overhead  that  outrageous  re 
mark  and  he  hastened  to  repeat  it  to  me. 

I  was  lunching  at  the  time  in  my  private  office  in 
the  Administration  Building  with  Dr.  Hans  Fooss 
• — he  and  I  being  too  busy  dissecting  an  unusually 
fine  specimen  of  Dingue  to  go  to  the  Rolling  Stone 
Inn  for  luncheon — when  Professor  Lezard  rushed 
in  with  the  scandalous  libel  still  sizzling  in  his 
ears. 

"Everybody  heard  her  say  it!"  he  went  on, 
wringing  his  hands.  "It  was  a  most  unfortunate 
thing  for  anybody  to  say  about  you  before  all  those 
young  ladies.  Every  stenographer  and  typewriter 
there  turned  pale  and  then  red." 

"What!"  I  exclaimed,  conscious  that  my  own 
ears  were  growing  large  and  hot.  "Did  that  out- 

160 


One  Over 


rageous  woman  have  the  bad  taste  to  say  such  a 
thing  before  all  those  sensitive  girls !" 

"She  did.  She  glared  at  them  when  she  said  it. 
Several  blondes  and  one  brunette  began  to  cry." 

"I  hope,"  said  I,  a  trifle  tremulously,  "that  no 
typewriter  so  far  forgot  herself  as  to  admit  notic 
ing  playfulness  on  my  part." 

"They  all  were  tearfully  unanimous  in  declaring 
you  to  be  a  perfect  gentleman !" 

"I  am,"  I  said.  "I  am  also  a  married  man — irre 
vocably  wedded  to  science.  I  desire  no  other 
spouse.  I  am  ineligible;  and  everybody  knows  it. 
If  at  times  a  purely  scientific  curiosity  leads  me  into 
a  detached  and  impersonally  psychological  investi 
gation  of  certain  —  ah  —  feminine  idiosyncra 
sies " 

"Certainly,"  said  Lezard.  "To  investigate  the 
feminine  is  more  than  a  science;  it  is  a  duty!" 

"Of  a  surety!"  nodded  Dr.  Fooss. 

I  looked  proudly  upon  my  two  loyal  friends  and 
bit  into  my  cheese  sandwich.  Only  men  know  men. 
A  jury  of  my  peers  had  exonerated  me.  What  did 
I  care  for  Professor  Bottomly! 

"All  the  same,"  added  Lezard,  "you'd  better  be 

161 


Police!  !  ! 


careful  or  Professor  Bottomly  will  put  one  over  on 
you  yet." 

"I  am  always  careful,"  I  said  with  dignity. 

"All  men  should  be.  It  is  the  only  protection  of 
a  defenseless  coast  line,"  nodded  Lezard. 

"Und  neffer,  neffer  commid  nodding  to  paper," 
added  Dr.  Fooss.  "Don'd  neffer  write  it,  'I  lofe 
you  like  I  was  going  to  blow  up  alretty!'  Ach, 
nein!  Don'd  you  write  down  somedings.  Effery 
man  he  iss  entitled  to  protection ;  und  so  iss  it  he  iss 
protected." 

Stein  in  hand  he  beamed  upon  us  benevolently 
over  his  knifeful  of  sauerfisch,  then  he  fed  himself 
and  rammed  it  down  with  a  hearty  draught  of  Pils 
ner.  We  gazed  with  reverence  upon  Kultur  as  em 
bodied  in  this  great  Teuton. 

"That  woman,"  remarked  Lezard  to  me,  "cer 
tainly  means  to  get  rid  of  you.  It  seems  to  me  that 
there  are  only  two  possible  ways  for  you  to  hold 
down  your  job  at  the  Bronx.  You  know  it,  don't 
you?" 

I  nodded.  "Yes,"  I  said;  "either  I  must  pay 
marked  masculine  attention  to  Professor  Bottomly 
or  I  must  manage  to  put  one  over  on  her." 

162 


One  Over 


"Of  course,"  said  Lezard,  "the  first  method  is 
the  easier  for  you " 

"Not  for  a  minute!"  il  said,  hastily;  "I  simply 
couldn't  become  frolicsome  with  her.  You  say 
she's  got  a  voice  like  a  drill-sergeant  and  she  goose- 
steps  when  she  walks;  and  I  don't  mind  admitting 
she  has  me  badly  scared  already.  No ;  she  must  be 
scientifically  ruined.  It  is  the  only  method  which 
makes  her  elimination  certain." 

"But  if  her  popular  nature  books  didn't  ruin  her 
scientifically,  how  can  we  hope  to  lead  her  astray?" 
inquired  Lezard. 

"There  is,"  I  said,  thoughtfully,  "only  one  thing 
that  can  really  ruin  a  scientist.  Ridicule!  I  have 
braved  it  many  a  time,  taking  my  scientific  life  in 
my  hands  in  pursuit  of  unknown  specimens  which 
might  have  proved  only  imaginary.  Public  ridicule 
would  have  ended  my  scientific  career  in  such  an 
event.  I  know  of  no  better  way  to  end  Professor 
Bottomry's  scientific  career  and  capability  for  mis 
chief  than  to  start  her  out  after  something  which 
doesn't  exist,  inform  the  newspapers,  and  let  her 
suffer  the  agonising  consequences." 

Dr.  Fooss  began  to  shout: 

163 


Police!  !  ! 


"The  idea  iss  schon!  colossal!  prachtvol!  ausge- 
zeichnet!  wunderbar!  wunderschon!  gemutlich — " 
A  large,  tough  noodle  checked  him.  While  he 
labored  with  Teutonic  imperturbability  to  master  it 
Lezard  and  I  exchanged  suggestions  regarding  the 
proposed  annihilation  of  this  fearsome  woman  who 
had  come  ravening  among  us  amid  the  peaceful  and 
soporific  environment  of  Bronx  Park. 

It  was  a  dreadful  thing  for  us  to  have  our  balmy 
Lotus-eaters'  paradise  so  startlingly  invaded  by  a 
large,  loquacious,  loud-voiced  lady  who  had  already 
stirred  us  all  out  of  our  agreeable,  traditional  and 
leisurely  inertia.  Inertia  begets  cogitation,  and  co 
gitation  begets  ideas,  and  ideas  beget  reflexion,  and 
profound  reflexion  is  the  fundamental  cornerstone 
of  that  immortal  temple  in  which  the  goddess 
Science  sits  asleep  between  her  dozing  sisters,  Cus 
tom  and  Religion. 

This  thought  seemed  to  me  so  unusually  beauti 
ful  that  I  wrote  it  with  a  pencil  upon  my  cuff. 

While  I  was  writing  it,  quietly  happy  in  the  deep 
pleasure  that  my  intellectual  allegory  afforded  me, 
Dr.  Fooss  swabbed  the  last  morsel  of  nourishment 
from  his  plate  with  a  wad  of  rye  bread,  then  bolt- 


One  Over 


ing  the  bread  and  wiping  his  beard  with  his  fingers 
and  his  fingers  on  his  waistcoat,  he  made  several 
guttural  observations  too  profoundly  German  to  be 
immediately  intelligible,  and  lighted  his  porcelain 
pipe. 

"Ach  wass !"  he  remarked  in  ruminative  fashion. 
"Dot  Frauenzimmer  she  iss  to  raise  hell  alretty  de 
termined.  Von  Pachydermatology  she  knows  nod 
ding.  Maybe  she  leaves  me  alone,  maybe  it  is  to  be 
'raus  mit  me.  F  weis'  ni'!  It  iss  aber  besser  one 
over  on  dat  lady  to  put,  yess  ?" 

"It  certainly  is  advisable/'  replied  Lezard. 

"Let  us  try  to  think  of  something  sufficiently  dis 
astrous  to  terminate  her  scientific  career,"  said  I. 
And  I  bowed  my  rather  striking  head  and  rested 
the  point  of  my  forefinger  upon  my  forehead. 
Though  crystallises  more  quickly  for  me  when  I 
assume  this  attitude. 

Out  of  the  corner  of  my  eye  I  saw  Lezard  fold 
his  arms  and  sit  frowning  at  infinity. 

Dr.  Fooss  lay  back  in  a  big,  deeply  padded  arm 
chair  and  closed  his  prominent  eyes.  His  pipe 
went  out  presently,  and  now  and  then  he  made  long- 
drawn  nasal  remarks,  in  German,  too  complicated 

165 


Police!  !  ! 


for  either  Lezard  or  for  me  to  entirely  comprehend. 

"We  must  try  to  get  her  as  far  away  from  here 
as  possible,"  mused  Lezard.  "Is  Oyster  Bay  too 
far  and  too  cruel?" 

I  pondered  darkly  upon  the  suggestion.  But  it 
seemed  unpleasantly  like  murder. 

"Lezard,"  said  I,  "come,  let  us  reason  together. 
Now  what  is  woman's  besetting  emotion?" 

"Curiosity?" 

"Very  well;  assuming  that  to  be  true,  what — ah 
— quality  particularly  characterizes  woman  when 
so  beset." 

"Ruthless  determination." 

"Then,"  said  I,  "we  ought  to  begin  my  exciting 
the  curiosity  of  Professor  Bottomly;  and  her  ruth 
less  determination  to  satisfy  that  curiosity  should 
logically  follow." 

"How,"  he  asked,  "are  we  to  arouse  her  cu 
riosity?" 

"By  pretending  that  we  have  knowledge  of 
something  hitherto  undiscovered,  the  discovery  of 
which  would  redound  to  our  scientific  glory." 

"I  see.  She'd  want  the  glory  for  herself.  She'd 
swipe  it." 

166 


One  Over 


"She  would,"  said  I. 

"Tee— hee !"  he  giggled ;  "Wouldn't  it  be  funny 
to  plant  something  phony  on  her " 

I  waved  my  arms  rather  gracefully  in  my  excite 
ment: 

"That  is  the  germ  of  an  idea!"  I  said.  "If  we 
could  plant  something — something — far  away 
from  here — very  far  away — if  we  could  bury  some 
thing—like  the  Cardiff  Giant " 

"Hundreds  and  hundreds  of  miles  away !" 

"Thousands!"  I  insisted,  enthusiastically. 

"Tee-hee!  In  Tasmania,  for  example!  Maybe 
a  Tasmanian  Devil  might  acquire  her!" 

"There  exists  a  gnat,"  said  I,  "in  Borneo — 
Gnatus  soporificus — and  when  this  tiny  gnat  stings 
people  they  never  entirely  wake  up.  It's  really 
rather  a  pleasurable  catastrophe,  I  understand. 
Life  becomes  one  endless  cat-nap — one  delightful 
siesta,  with  intervals  for  light  nourishment.  .  .  . 
She — ah — could  sit  very  comfortably  in  some 
pleasant  retreat  and  rock  in  a  rocking-chair  and 
doze  quite  happily  through  the  years  to  come.  .  .  . 
And  from  your  description  of  her  I  should  say  that 
the  Soldiers'  Home  might  receive  her." 

167 


Police!  !  ! 


"It  won't  do,"  he  said,  gloomily. 

"Why  ?    Is  it  too  much  like  crime  ?" 

"Oh  not  at  all.  Only  if  she  went  to  Borneo  she'd 
be  sure  to  take  a  mosquito-bar  with  her." 

In  the  depressed  silence  \vhich  ensued  Dr.  Fooss 
suddenly  made  several  Futurist  observations 
through  his  nose  with  monotonous  but  authori 
tative  regularity.  I  tried  to  catch  his  meaning 
and  his  eye.  The  one  remained  cryptic,  the  other 
shut. 

Lezard  sat  thinking  very  hard.  And  as  1  fidget- 
ted  in  my  chair,  fiddling  nervously  with  various  ob 
jects  lying  on  my  desk  I  chanced  to  pick  up  a  let 
ter  from  the  pile  of  still  unopened  mail  at  my 
elbow. 

Still  pondering  on  Professor  Bottomly's  pro 
posed  destruction,  I  turned  the  letter  over  idly  and 
my  preoccupied  gaze  rested  on  the  postmark.  Af 
ter  a  moment  I  leaned  forward  and  examined  it 
more  attentively.  The  letter  directed  to  me  was 
postmarked  Fort  Carcajou,  Cook's  Peninsula,  Baf 
fin  Land ;  and  now  I  recalled  the  handwriting,  hav 
ing  already  seen  it  three  or  four  times  within  the 
last  month  or  so. 

168 


One  Over 


"Lezard,"  I  said,  "that  lunatic  trapper  from 
Baffin  Land  has  written  to  me  again.  What  do 
you  suppose  is  the  matter  with  him?  Is  he  just 
plain  crazy  or  does  he  think  he  can  be  funny  with 
me?" 

Lezard  gazed  at  me  absently.  Then,  all  at  once 
a  gleam  of  savage  interest  lighted  his  somewhat 
solemn  features. 

"Read  the  letter  to  me,"  he  said,  with  an  evil 
smile  which  instantly  animated  my  own  latent 
imagination.  And  immediately  it  occurred  to  me 
that  perhaps,  in  the  humble  letter  from  the  wilds 
of  Baffin  Land,  which  I  was  now  opening  with 
eager  and  unsteady  fingers,  might  lie  concealed  the 
professional  undoing  of  Professor  Jane  Bottomly, 
and  the  only  hope  of  my  own  ultimate  and  scientific 
salvation. 

The  room  became  hideously  still  as  I  unfolded 
the  pencil-scrawled  sheets  of  cheap,  ruled  letter 
paper. 

Dr.  Fooss  opened  his  eyes,  looked  at  me,  made 
porcine  sounds  indicative  of  personal  well-being, 
relighted  his  pipe,  and  disposed  himself  to  listen. 
But  just  as  I  was  about  to  begin,  Lezard  suddenly 

169 


Police!  !  ! 


laid  his  forefinger  across  his  lips  conjuring  us  to 
densest  silence. 

For  a  moment  or  two  I  heard  nothing  except  the 
buzzing  of  flies.  Then  I  stole  a  startled  glance  at 
my  door.  It  was  opening  slowly,  almost  impercept 
ibly. 

But  it  did  not  open  very  far — just  a  crack  re 
mained.  Then,  listening  with  all  our  might,  we 
heard  the  cautiously  suppressed  breathing  of  some 
body  in  the  hallway  just  outside  of  my  door. 

Lezard  turned  and  cast  at  me  a  glance  of  horri 
fied  intelligence.  In  dumb  pantomime  he  outlined 
in  the  air,  with  one  hand,  the  large  and  feminine 
amplification  of  his  own  person,  conveying  to  us 
the  certainty  of  his  suspicions  concerning  the  un- 
ceen  eavesdropper. 

We  nodded.  We  understood  perfectly  that  she 
was  out  there  prepared  to  listen  to  every  word  we 
uttered. 

A  flicker  of  ferocious  joy  disturbed  Lezard's 
otherwise  innocuous  features;  he  winked  horribly 
at  Dr.  Fooss  and  at  me,  and  uttered  a  faint  click 
with  his  teeth  and  tongue  like  the  snap  of  a  closing 
trap. 

170 


One  Over 


"Gentlemen,"  he  said,  in  the  guarded  yet  excited 
voice  of  a  man  who  is  confident  of  not  being  over 
heard,  "the  matter  under  discussion  admits  of  only 
one  interpretation :  a  discovery — perhaps  the  most 
vitally  important  discovery  of  all  the  centuries — is 
imminent. 

"Secrecy  is  imperative;  the  scientific  glory  is  to 
be  shared  by  us  alone,  and  there  is  enough  of  glory 
to  go  around. 

"Mr.  Chairman,  I  move  that  epoch-making  letter 
be  read  aloud !" 

"I  second  dot  motion!"  said  Dr.  Fooss,  winking 
so  violently  at  me  that  his  glasses  wabbled. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  I,  "it  has  been  moved  and 
seconded  that  this  epoch-making  letter  be  read 
aloud.  All  those  in  favor  will  kindly  say  'aye/  ' 

"Aye!  Aye!"  they  exclaimed,  fairly  wriggling  in 
their  furtive  joy. 

"The  contrary-minded  will  kindly  emit  the  usual 
negation,"  I  went  on.  ...  "It  seems  to  be  carried 
.  ...  It  is  carried.  The  chairman  will  proceed 
to  the  reading  of  the  epoch-making  letter." 

I  quietly  lighted  a  five-cent  cigar,  unfolded  the 
letter  and  read  aloud : 

171 


Police!  !  ! 


"Joneses  Shack, 

Golden  Glacier, 
Cook's   Peninsula,    Baffin   Land, 

March   15,   1915. 
"Professor,  Dear  Sir: 

"I  already  wrote  you  three  times  no  answer  having 
been  rec'd  perhaps  you  think  I'm  kiddin'  you're  a  dam' 
liar  I  ain't. 

"Hoping  to  tempt  you  to  come  I  will  hereby  tell  you 
more'n  I  told  you  in  my  other  letters,  the  terminal  moraine 
of  this  here  Golden  Glacier  finishes  into  a  marsh,  nothing 
to  see  'for  miles  excep'  frozen  tussock  and  mud  and  all 
flat  as  hell  for  fifty  miles  which  is  where  I  am  trappin' 
it  for  mink  and  otter  and  now  ready  to  go  back  to  Fort 
Carcajou,  i  told  you  what  I  seen  stickin'  in  under  this 
here  marsh,  where  anything  sticks  out  the  wolves  have 
eat  it,  but  most  of  them  there  ellerphants  is  in  under  the 
ice  and  mud  too  far  for  the  wolves  to  git  'em. 

"i  ain't  kiddin'  you,  there  is  a  whole  herd  of  furry  eller 
phants  in  the  marsh  like  as  they  were  stuck  there  and 
all  lay  down  and  was  drownded  like.  Some  has  tusks  and 
some  hasn't.  Two  ellerphants  stuck  out  of  the  ice,  I  eat 
onto  one,  the  meat  was  good  and  sweet  and  joosy,  the 
damn  wolves  eat  it  up  that  night,  I  had  cut  stakes  and 
rost  for  three  months  though  and  am  eating  off  it  yet. 

"Thinking  as  how  ellerphants  and  all  like  that  is  your 
grait,  I  being  a  keeper  in  the  Mouse  House  once  in  the 
Bronx  and  seein'  you  nosin'  around  like  you  was  full  of 
scientific  thinks,  it  comes  to  me  to  write  you  and  put  you 
next. 

"If  you  say  so  I'll  wait  here  and  help  you  with  them 
ellerphants.  Livin'  wages  is  all  I  ask  also  eleven  thou- 

172 


One  Over 


sand  dollars  for  tippin'  you  wise.  I  won't  tell  nobody 
till  I  hear  'from  you.  I'm  hones'  you  can  trus'  me.  Write 
me  to  Fort  Carcajou  if  you  mean  bizness.  So  no  more 
respectfully, 

JAMES  SKAW." 


When  I  finished  reading  I  cautiously  glanced  at 
the  door,  and,  finding  it  still  on  the  crack,  turned 
and  smiled  subtly  upon  Lezard  and  Fooss. 

In  their  slowly  spreading  grins  I  saw  they  agreed 
with  me  that  somebody,  signing  himself  James 
Skaw,  was  still  trying  to  hoax  the  Great  Zoological 
Society  of  Bronx  Park. 

"Gentlemen,"  I  said  aloud,  injecting  innocent  en 
thusiasm  into  my  voice,  "this  secret  expedition  to 
Baffin  Land  which  we  three  are  about  to  organise 
is  destined  to  be  without  doubt  the  most  scientific 
ally  prolific  field  expedition  ever  organised  by  man. 

"Imagine  an  entire  herd  of  mammoths  preserved 
in  mud  and  ice  through  all  these  thousands  of 
years ! 

"Gentlemen,  no  discovery  ever  made  has  even  re 
motely  approached  in  importance  the  discovery 
made  by  this  simple,  illiterate  trapper,  James 
Skaw." 

13  173 


Police!  !  ! 


"I  thought,"  protested  Lezard,  "that  we  are  to 
be  announced  as  the  discoverers." 

"We  are,"  said  I,  "the  discoverers  of  James 
Skaw,  which  makes  us  technically  the  finders  of 
the  ice-preserved  herd  of  mammoths — technically) 
you  understand.  A  few  thousand  dollars,"  I 
added,  carelessly,  "ought  to  satiate  James  Skaw." 

"We  could  name  dot  glacier  after  him,"  sug 
gested  Dr.  Fooss. 

"Certainly — the  Skaw  Glacier.  That  ought  to 
be  enough  glory  for  him.  It  ought  to  satisfy  him 
and  prevent  any  indiscreet  remarks,"  nodded 
Lezard. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  I,  "there  is  only  one  detail 
that  really  troubles  me.  Ought  we  to  notify  our 
honoured  and  respected  Chief  of  Division  concern 
ing  this  discovery?" 

"Do  you  mean,  should  we  tell  that  accomplished 
and  fascinating  lady,  Professor  Bottomly,  about 
this  herd  of  mammoths?''  I  asked  in  a  loud,  clear 
voice.  And  immediately  answered  my  own  ques 
tion :  "No,"  I  said,  "no,  dear  friends.  Professor 
Bottomly  already  has  too  much  responsibility 
weighing  upon  her  distinguished  mind.  No,  dear 

174 


One  Over 


brothers  in  science,  we  should  steal  away  unob 
served  as  though  setting  out  upon  an  ordinary 
field  expedition.  And  when  we  return  with  fresh 
and  immortal  laurels  such  as  no  man  before  has 
ever  worn,  no  doubt  that  our  generous-minded 
Chief  of  Division  will  weave  for  us  further 
wreaths  to  crown  our  brows — the  priceless  gar 
lands  of  professional  approval!"  And  I  made  a 
horrible  face  at  my  co-conspirators. 

Before  I  finished  Lezard  had  taken  his  own  face 
in  his  hands  for  the  purpose  of  stifling  raucous  and 
untimely  mirth.  As  for  Dr.  Fooss,  his  small,  por 
cine  eyes  snapped  and  twinkled  madly  behind  his 
spectacles,  but  he  seemed  rather  inclined  to  approve 
my  flowers  of  rhetoric. 

"Ja,"  said  he,  "so  iss  it  besser  oursellufs  dot 
gefrozenss  herd  von  elephanten  to  discover,  und, 
by  and  by,  die  elephanten  bei  der  Pronx  Bark 
home  yet  again  once  more  to  bring.  We  shall 
therefore  much  praise  thereby  bekommen.  Ach 
wass !" 

"Gentlemen,"  said  I,  distinctly,  "it  is  decided, 
then,  that  we  shall  say  nothing  concerning  the  true 
object  of  this  expedition  to  Professor  Bottomly." 

175 


Police/  I ! 


Lezard  and  Fooss  nodded  assent.  Then,  in  the 
silence,  we  all  strained  our  ears  to  listen.  And 
presently  we  detected  the  scarcely  heard  sound 
of  cautiously  retreating  footsteps  down  the  cor 
ridor. 

When  it  was  safe  to  do  so  I  arose  and  closed  my 
door. 

"I  think,"  said  I,  with  a  sort  of  infernal  cheer 
fulness  in  my  tones,  "that  we  are  about  to  do  some 
thing  jocose  to  Jane  Bottomry." 

"A  few,"«said  Professor  Lezard.  He  rose  and 
silently  executed  a  complicated  ballet-step. 

"I  shall  laff,"  said  Dr.  Fooss,  earnestly,  "und  I 
shall  laff,  und  I  shall  laff— ach  Gott  how  I  shall  laff 
my  pally  head  off!" 

I  folded  my  arms  and  turned  romanesquely  to 
ward  the  direction  in  which  Professor  Bottomly 
had  retreated. 

"Viper!"  I  said.  "The  Bronx  shall  nourish  you 
in  its  bosom  no  more!  Fade  away,  Ophidian!" 

The  sentiment  was  applauded  by  all.  There 
chanced  to  be  in  my  desk  a  bottle  marked :  "That's 
all!"  On  the  label  somebody  had  written:  "Do  it 
now !"  We  did. 

176 


One  Over 


III 


IT  was  given  out  at  the  Bronx  that  our  field  ex 
pedition  to  Baffin  Land  was  to  be  undertaken 
solely  for  the  purpose  of  bringing  back  living 
specimens  of  the  five-spotted  Arctic  woodcock — 
Philohela  quinquemacitlata — in  order  to  add  to  our 
onomatology  and  our  glossary  of  onomatopoeia  an 
ontogenesis  of  this  important  but  hitherto  unstudied 
sub-species. 

I  trust  I  make  myself  clear.  Scientific  statements 
should  be  as  clear  as  the  Spuyten  Duyvil.  Sola  in 
stagno  salus! 

But  two  things  immediately  occurred  which  wor 
ried  us;  Professor  Bottomry  sent  us  official  notifi 
cation  that  she  approved  our  expedition  to  Baffin 
Land,  designated  the  steamer  we  were  to  take,  and 
enclosed  tickets.  That  scared  us.  Then  to  add  to 
our  perplexity  Professor  Bottomly  disappeared, 
leaving  Dr.  Daisy  Delmour  in  charge  of  her  de 
partment  during  what  she  announced  might  be  "a 
somewhat  prolonged  absence  on  business." 

And  during  the  four  feverish  weeks  of  our  pre 
tended  preparations  for  Baffin  Land  not  one  word 

177 


Police!  !  ! 


did  we  hear  from  Jane  Bottomly,  which  caused  us 
painful  inquietude  as  the  hour  approached  for  our 
departure. 

Was  this  formidable  woman  actually  intending 
to  let  us  depart  alone  for  the  Golden  Glacier  ?  Was 
she  too  lazy  to  rob  us  of  the  secretly  contemplated 
glory  which  we  had  pretended  awaited  us? 

We  had  been  so  absolutely  convinced  that  she 
would  forbid  our  expedition,  pack  us  off  elsewhere, 
and  take  charge  herself  of  an  exploring  party  to 
Baffin  Land,  that,  as  the  time  for  our  leaving  drew 
near  we  became  first  uneasy,  and  then  really 
alarmed. 

It  would  be  a  dreadful  jest  on  us  if  she  made  us 
swallow  our  own  concoction ;  if  she  revealed  to  our 
colleagues  our  pretended  knowledge  of  the  Golden 
Glacier  and  James  Skaw  and  the  supposedly  ice- 
imbedded  herd  of  mammoths,  and  then  publicly 
forced  us  to  investigate  this  hoax. 

More  horrible  still  would  it  be  if  she  informed 
the  newspapers  and  gave  them  a  hint  to  make  merry 
over  the  three  wise  men  of  the  Bronx  who  went  to 
Baffin  Land  in  a  boat. 

"What  do  you  suppose  that  devious  and  secretive 

178 


One  Over 


female  is  up  to?"  inquired  Lezard  who,  within  the 
last  few  days,  had  grown  thin  with  worry.  "Is 
it  possible  that  she  is  sufficiently  degraded  to  sus 
pect  us-  of  trying  to  put  one  over  on  her?  Is  that 
what  she  is  now  doing  to  us  ?" 

"Terminus  est — it  is  the  limit!"  said  I. 

He  turned  a  morbid  eye  upon  me.  "She  is  mak 
ing  a  monkey  of  us.  That's  what!" 

"Suspendenda  omnia  naso"  I  nodded ;  "tarde  scd 
tute.  When  I  think  aloud  in  Latin  it  means  that 
I  am  deeply  troubled.  "Swum  quemque  scelus  agi- 
tat.  Do  you  get  me,  Professor?  I'm  sorry  I  at 
tempted  to  be  sportive  with  this  terrible  woman. 
The  curse  of  my  scientific  career  has  been  period 
ical  excesses  of  frivolity  %  See  where  this  frolicsome 
impulse  has  landed  me! — super  abyssum  ainbulans. 
Trahit  sua  quemque  voluptas;  transeat  in  exem- 
plum!  She  means  to  let  us  go  to  our  destruction 
on  this  mammoth  frappe  affair." 

But  Dr.  Fooss  was  optimistic : 

"I  tink  she  iss  alretty  herselluf  by  dot  Baffin 
Land  ge-gone,"  he  said.  "I  tink  she  has  der  bait 
ge-swallowed,  Ve  vait;  ve  see;  und  so  iss  it  ve 
know," 

179 


Police!  !  ! 


"But  why  hasn't  she  stopped  our  preparations?" 
I  demanded.  "If  she  wants  all  the  glory  herself 
why  does  she  permit  us  to  incur  this  expense  in 
getting  ready?" 

"No  mans  can  to  know  der  vorkings  of  der  men 
tal  brocess  by  a  Frauenzimmer,"  said  Dr.  Fooss, 
wagging  his  head. 

The  suspense  became  nerve-racking;  we  were 
obliged  to  pack  our  camping  kits;  and  it  began  to 
look  as  though  we  would  have  either  to  sail  the 
next  morning  or  to  resign  from  the  Bronx  Park 
Zoological  Society,  because  all  the  evening  papers 
had  the  story  in  big  type — the  details  and  objects 
of  the  expedition,  the  discovery  of  the  herd  of  mam 
moths  in  cold  storage,  the  prompt  organization  of 
an  expedition  to  secure  this  unparalleled  deposit  of 
prehistoric  mammalia — everything  was  there  star 
ing  at  us  in  violent  print,  excepting  only  the  name 
of  the  discoverer  and  the  names  of  those  composing 
the  field  expedition. 

"She  means  to  betray  us  after  we  have  sailed," 
said  Lezard,  greatly  depressed.  "We  might  just 
as  well  resign  now  before  this  hoax  explodes  and 
bespatters  us.  We  can  take  our  chances  in  vaude- 

180 


One  Over 


ville  or  as  lecturing  professors  with  the  movies/' 

I  thought  so,  too,  in  point  of  fact  we  all  had 
gathered  in  my  study  to  write  out  our  resignations, 
when  there  came  a  knock  at  the  door  and  Dr.  Daisy 
Delmour  walked  in. 

Oddly  enough  I  had  not  before  met  Dr.  Delmour 
personally;  only  formal  written  communications 
had  hitherto  passed  between  us.  My  idea  of  her 
had  doubtless  been  inspired  by  the  physical  and 
intellectual  aberrations  of  her  chief;  I  naturally 
supposed  her  to  be  either  impossible  and  corporeally 
redundant,  or  intellectually  and  otherwise  as  weaz 
ened  as  last  year's  Li-che  nut. 

I  was  criminally  mistaken.  And  why  Lezard, 
who  knew  her,  had  never  set  me  right  I  could  not 
then  understand.  I  comprehended  later. 

For  the  feminine  assistant  of  Professor  Jane  Bot- 
tomly,  who  sauntered  into  my  study  and  announced 
herself,  had  the  features  of  Athene,  the  smile  of 
Aphrodite,  and  the  figure  of  Psyche.  I  believe  I  do 
not  exaggerate  these  scientific  details,  although  it 
has  been  said  of  me  that  any  pretty  girl  distorts  my 
vision  and  my  intellectual  balance  to  the  detriment 
of  my  calmer  reason  and  my  differentiating  ability. 

181 


Police!  !  ! 


"Gentlemen,"  said  Dr.  Delmour,  while  we  stood 
in  a  respectful  semi-circle  before  her,  modestly 
conscious  of  our  worth,  our  toes  turned  out,  and 
each  man's  features  wreathed  with  that  politely  un 
natural  smirk  which  masculine  features  assume  when 
confronted  by  feminine  beauty.  "Gentlemen,  on  the 
eve  of  your  proposed  departure  for  Baffin  Land  in 
quest  of  living  specimens  of  the  five-spotted  Philo- 
hela  quinquemaculata,  I  have  been  instructed  by 
Professor  Bottomly  to  announce  to  you  a  great  good 
fortune  for  her,  for  you,  for  the  Bronx,  for  Amer 
ica,  for  the  entire  civilized  world. 

"It  has  come  to  Professor  Bottomly's  knowledge, 
recently  I  believe,  that  an  entire  herd  of  mammoths 
lie  encased  in  the  mud  and  ice  of  the  vast  flat 
marshes  which  lie  south  of  the  terminal  moraine  of 
the  Golden  Glacier  in  that  part  of  Baffin  Land  known 
as  Dr.  Cook's  Peninsula. 

"The  credit  of  this  epoch-making  discovery  is  Pro 
fessor  Bottomly's  entirely.  How  it  happened,  she 
did  not  inform  me.  One  month  ago  today  she 
sailed  in  great  haste  for  Baffin  Land.  At  this  very 
hour  she  is  doubtless  standing  all  alone  upon  the 
frozen  surface  of  that  wondrous  marsh,  contemplat- 

182 


One  Over 


ing  with  reverence  and  awe  and  similar  holy  emo 
tions  the  fruits  of  her  own  unsurpassed  discovery !" 

Dr.  Delmour's  lovely  features  became  delicately 
suffused  and  transfigured  as  she  spoke;  her  exquis 
ite  voice  thrilled  with  generous  emotion;  she 
clasped  her  snowy  hands  and  gazed,  enraptured,  at 
the  picture  of  Dr.  Bottomly  which  her  mind  was 
so  charmingly  evoking. 

"Perhaps,"  she  whispered,  "perhaps  at  this  very 
instant,  in  the  midst  of  that  vast  and  flat  and  sol 
emn  desolation  the  only  protuberance  visible  for 
miles  and  miles  is  Professor  Bottomly.  Perhaps 
the  pallid  Arctic  sun  is  setting  behind  the  majestic 
figure  of  Professor  Bottomly,  radiating  a  blinding 
glory  to  the  zenith,  illuminating  the  crowning  act 
of  her  career  with  its  unearthly  aura !" 

She  gazed  at  us  out  of  dimmed  and  violet  eyes. 

"Gentlemen,"  she  said,  "I  am  ordered  to  take 
command  of  this  expedition  of  yours ;  I  am  ordered 
to  sail  with  you  tomorrow  morning  on  the  Labrador 
and  Baffin  Line  steamer  Dr.  Cook. 

"The  object  of  your  expedition,  therefore,  is  not 
to  be  the  quest  of  Philohela  quinquemaculata;  your 
duty  now  is  to  corroborate  the  almost  miraculous 

183 


Police!  !  ! 


discovery  of  Professor  Bottomly,  and  to  disinter 
for  her  the  vast  herd  of  frozen  mammoths,  pack 
and  pickle  them,  and  get  them  to  the  Bronx. 

"Tomorrow's  morning  papers  will  have  the  en 
tire  story:  the  credit  and  responsibility  for  the  dis 
covery  and  the  expedition  belong  to  Professor  Bot 
tomly,  and  will  be  given  to  her  by  the  press  and 
the  populace  of  our  great  republic. 

"It  is  her  wish  that  no  other  names  be  mentioned. 
Which  is  right.  To  the  discoverer  belongs  the  glory. 
Therefore,  the  marsh  is  to  be  named  Bottomly's 
Marsh,  and  the  Glacier,  Bottomly's  Glacier. 

"Yours  and  mine  is  to  be  the  glory  of  laboring 
incognito  under  the  direction  of  the  towering  scien 
tific  intellect  of  the  age,  Professor  Bottomly. 

"And  the  most  precious  legacy  you  can  leave  your 
children — if  you  get  married  and  have  any — is  that 
you  once  wielded  the  humble  pick  and  shovel  for 
Jane  Bottomly  on  the  bottomless  marsh  which  bears 
her  name !" 

After  a  moment's  silence  we  three  men  ventured 
to  look  sideways  at  each  other.  We  had  certainly 
killed  Professor  Bottomly,  scientifically  speaking. 

184 


One  Over 


The  lady  was  practically  dead.  The  morning  pa 
pers  would  consummate  the  murder.  We  didn't 
know  whether  we  wanted  to  laugh  or  not. 

She  was  now  virtually  done  for ;  that  seemed  cer 
tain.  So  greedily  had  this  egotistical  female  swal 
lowed  the  silly  bait  we  offered,  so  arrogantly  had 
she  planned  to  eliminate  everybody  excepting  her 
self  from  the  credit  of  the  discovery,  that  there 
seemed  now  nothing  left  for  us  to  do  except  to 
watch  her  hurdling  deliriously  toward  destruction. 
Should  we  burst  into  hellish  laughter? 

We  looked  hard  at  Dr.  Delmour  and  we  decided 
not  to — yet. 

Said  I :  "To  assist  at  the  final  apotheosis  of  Pro 
fessor  Bottomly  makes  us  very,  very  happy.  We 
are  happy  to  remain  incognito,  mere  ciphers  blotted 
out  by  the  fierce  white  light  which  is  about  to  beat 
upon  Professor  Bottomly,  fore  and  aft.  We  are 
happy  that  our  participation  in  this  astonishing  af 
fair  shall  never  be  known  to  science. 

"But,  happiest  of  all  are  we,  dear  Dr.  Delmour, 
in  the  knowledge  that  you  are  to  be  with  us  and  of 
us,  incognito  on  this  voyage  now  imminent ;  that  you 
are  to  be  our  revered  and  beloved  leader. 


Police!  !  ! 


"And  I,  for  one,  promise  you  personally  the  un 
divided  devotion  of  a  man  whose  entire  and  austere 
career  has  been  dedicated  to  science — in  all  its 
branches. " 

I  stepped  forward  rather  gracefully  and  raised 
her  little  hand  to  my  lips  to  let  her  see  that  even  the 
science  of  gallantry  had  not  been  neglected  by  me. 

Dr.  Daisy  Delmour  blushed. 

"Therefore,"  said  I,  "considering  the  fact  that 
our  names  are  not  to  figure  in  this  expedition ;  and, 
furthermore,  in  consideration  of  the  fact  that  you 
are  going,  we  shall  be  very,  very  happy  to  accom 
pany  you,  Dr.  Delmour."  I  again  saluted  her  hand, 
and  again  Dr.  Delmour  blushed  and  looked  sideways 
at  Professor  Lezard. 


IV 


IT   was,   to  be   accurate,   exactly   twenty-three 
days  later  that  our  voyage  by  sea  and  land 
ended  one  Monday  morning  upon  the  gigantic 
terminal  moraine  of  the  Golden  Glacier,  Cook's  Pe 
ninsula,  Baffin  Land. 

186 


One  Over 


Four  pack-mules  carried  our  luggage,  four  more 
bore  our  persons;  an  arctic  dicky-bird  sat  on  a 
bowlder  and  said,  "Pilly-willy-willy !  Tweet! 
Tweet!" 

As  we  rode  out  to  the  bowlder-strewn  edge  of 
the  moraine  the  rising  sun  greeted  us  cordially,  il 
luminating  below  us  the  flat  surface  of  the  marsh 
which  stretched  away  to  the  east  and  south  as  far 
as  the  eye  could  see. 

So  flat  was  it  that  we  immediately  made  out  the 
silhouettes  of  two  mules  tethered  below  us  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  away. 

Something  about  the  attitude  of  these  mules  ar 
rested  our  attention,  and,  gazing  upon  them  through 
our  field-glasses  we  beheld  Professor  Bottomly. 

That  resourceful  lady  had  mounted  a  pneumatic 
hammock  upon  the  two  mules,  their  saddles  had 
sockets  to  fit  the  legs  of  the  galvanized  iron  tri 
pod. 

No  matter  in  which  way  the  mules  turned,  sliding 
swivels  on  the  hollow  steel  frames  regulated  the 
hammock  slung  between  them.  It  was  an  infernal 
invention. 

There  lay  Jane  Bottomly  asleep,  her  back  hair 

187 


Police!  !  ! 


drying  over  the  hammock's  edge,  gilded  to  a  perox 
ide  lustre  by  the  rays  of  the  rising  sun. 

I  gazed  upon  her  with  a  sort  of  ferocious  pity. 
Her  professional  days  were  numbered.  /  also  had 
her  number! 

"How  majestically  she  slumbers/'  whispered  Dr. 
Delmour  to  me,  "dreaming,  doubtless,  of  her  ap 
proaching  triumph." 

Dr.  Fooss  and  Professor  Lezard,  driving  the 
pack-mules  ahead  of  them,  were  already  riding  out 
across  the  marsh. 

"Daisy,"  I  said,  leaning  from  my  saddle  and  tak 
ing  one  of  her  gloved  hands  into  mine,  "the  time 
has  come  for  me  to  disillusion  you.  There  are  no 
mammoths  in  that  mud  down  there." 

She  looked  at  me  in  blue-eyed  amazement. 

"You  are  mistaken,"  she  said;  "Professor  Bot- 
tomly  is  celebrated  for  the  absolute  and  painstaking 
accuracy  of  her  deductions  and  the  boldness  and  the 
imagination  of  her  scientific  investigations.  She  is 
the  most  cautious  scientist  in  America ;  she  would 
never  announce  such  a  discovery  to  the  newspapers 
unless  she  were  perfectly  certain  of  its  truth." 

I  was  sorry  for  this  young  girl.     I  pressed  her 

1 88 


"I  felt  so  sorry  for  her  that  I  kissed  her." 
14 


Police!!  ! 


hand  because  I  was  sorry  for  her.  After  a  few 
moments  of  deepest  thought  I  felt  so  sorry  for  her 
that  I  kissed  her. 

"You  mustn't,"  said  Dr.  Delmour,  blushing. 

The  things  we  mustn't  do  are  so  many  that  I 
can't  always  remember  all  of  them. 

"Daisy,"  I  said,  "shall  we  pledge  ourselves  to 
each  other  for  eternity — here  in  the  presence  of  this 
immemorial  glacier  which  moves  a  thousand  inches  a 
year — I  mean  an  inch  every  thousand  years — here 
in  these  awful  solitudes  where  incalculable  calcula 
tions  could  not  enlighten  us  concerning  the  number 
of  cubic  tons  of  mud  in  that  marsh — here  in  the 
presence  of  these  innocent  mules " 

"Oh,  look !"  exclaimed  Dr.  Delmour,  lifting  her 
flushed  cheek  from  my  shoulder.  "There  is  a  man 
in  the  hammock  with  Professor  Bottomly!" 

I  levelled  my  field-glasses  incredulously.  Good 
Heavens !  There  was  a  man  there.  He  was  sitting 
on  the  edge  of  the  hammock  in  a  dejected  attitude, 
his  booted  legs  dangling. 

And,  as  I  gazed,  I  saw  the  arm  of  Professor  Bot 
tomly  raised  as  though  groping  instinctively  for 
something  in  her  slumber — saw  her  fingers  close 

190 


One  Over 


upon  the  blue-flannel  shirt  of  her  companion,  saw  his 
timid  futile  attempts  to  elude  her,  saw  him  inex 
orably  hauled  back  and  his  head  forcibly  pillowed 
upon  her  ample  chest. 

"Daisy!"  I  faltered,  "what  does  yonder  scene  of 
presumable  domesticity  mean?" 

"I — I  haven't  the  faintest  idea !"  she  stammered. 

"Is  that  lady  married!  Or  is  this  revelry?"  I 
asked,  sternly. 

"She  wasn't  married  when  she  sailed  from  N- 
New-York,"  faltered  Dr.  Delmour. 

We  rode  forward  in  pained  silence,  spurring 
on  until  we  caught  up  with  Lezard  and  Fooss 
and  the  pack-mules;  then  we  all  pressed  ahead,  a 
prey,  now,  to  the  deepest  moral  anxiety  and  agi 
tation. 

The  splashing  of  our  mule's  feet  on  the  partly 
melted  surface  of  the  mud  aroused  the  man  as  we 
rode  up  and  he  scrambled  madly  to  get  out  of  the 
hammock  as  soon  as  he  saw  us. 

A  detaining  feminine  hand  reached  mechanically 
for  his  collar,  groped  aimlessly  for  a  moment,  and 
fell  across  the  hammock's  edge.  Evidently  its  owner 
was  too  sleepy  for  effort. 

191 


Police!  !  ! 


Meanwhile  the  man  who  had  floundered  free  from 
the  hammock,  leaped  overboard  and  came  hopping 
stiffly  over  the  slush  toward  us  like  a  badly-winged 
snipe. 

"Who  are  you?"  I  demanded,  drawing  bridle  so 
suddenly  that  I  found  myself  astride  of  my  mule's 
ears.  Sliding  back  into  the  saddle,  I  repeated  the 
challenge  haughtily,  inwardly  cursing  my  horse 
manship. 

He  stood  balancing  his  lank  six  feet  six  of  bony 
altitude  for  a  few  moments  without  replying.  His 
large  gentle  eyes  of  baby  blue  \vere  fixed  on  me. 

"Speak!"  I  said.  "The  reputation  of  a  lady  is  at 
stake!  Who  are  you?  We  ask,  before  we  shoot 
you,  for  purpose  of  future  identification." 

He  gazed  at  me  wildly.  "I  dunno  who  I  be,"  he 
replied.  "My  name  was  James  Skaw  before  that 
there  lady  went  an'  changed  it  on  me.  She  says  she 
has  changed  my  name  to  hers.  I  dunno.  All  I 
know  is  I'm  married." 

"Married?'  echoed  Dr.  Delmour. 

He  looked  dully  at  the  girl,  then  fixed  his  large 
mild  eyes  on  me. 

"A  mission  priest  done  it  for  her  a  month  ago 

192 


One  Over 


when  we  was  hikin'  towards  Fort  Carcajou.  Hoon- 
hel  are  you?"  he  added. 

I  informed  him  with  dignity;  he  blinked  at  me, 
at  the  others,  at  the  mules.  Then  he  said  with  infi 
nite  bitterness: 

"You're  a  fine  guy,  ain't  you,  a-wishin'  this  here 
lady  onto  a  pore  pelt-hunter  what  ain't  never  done 
nothin'  to  you!" 

"Who  did  you  say  I  wished  on  you?"  I  demand 
ed,  bewildered. 

"That  there  lady  a-sleepin'  into  the  nuptool  ham- 
mick!  You  wished  her  onto  me — yaas  you  did! 
Whatnhel  have  I  done  to  you,  hey?" 

We  were  dumb.  He  shoved  his  hand  into  his 
pocket,  produced  a  slug  of  twist,  slowly  gnawed  off 
a  portion,  and  buried  the  remains  in  his  vast  jaw. 

"All  I  done  to  you,"  he  said,  "was  to  write  you 
them  letters  sayin's  as  how  I  found  a  lot  of  eller- 
phants  into  the  mud. 

"What  you  done  to  me  was  to  send  that  there  lady 
here.  Was  that  gratitood?  Man  to  man  I  ask 
you?" 

A  loud  snore  from  the  hammock  startled  us  all. 
James  Skaw  twisted  his  neck  turkey-like,  and  looked 


Police!  !  ! 


warily  at  the  hammock,  then  turning  toward  me : 

"Aw/'  he  said,  "she  don't  never  wake  up  till  I 
have  breakfast  ready." 

"James  Skaw,"  I  said,  "tell  me  what  has  hap 
pened.  On  my  word  of  honor  I  don't  know." 

He  regarded  me  with  lack-lustre  eyes. 

"I  was  a-settin'  onto  a  bowlder,"  said  he,  "a-fig- 
urin'  out  whether  you  was  a-comin'  or  not,  when 
that  there  lady  rides  up  with  her  led-mule  a  trail- 
in'. 

"Sez  she:  'Are  you  James  Skaw?' 

"Yes,  marm,'  sez  I,  kinder  scared  an'  puzzled. 

"'Where  is  them  ellerphants ?'  sez  she,  reachin' 
down  from  her  saddle  an'  takin'  me  by  the  shirt 
collar,  an'  beatin'  me  with  her  umbrella. 

"Sez  I,  'I  have  wrote  to  a  certain  gent  that  I 
would  show  him  them  ellerphants  for  a  price.  Bein' 
strictly  hones'  I  can't  show  'em  to  no  one  else  until  I 
hear  from  him.' 

"With  that  she  continood  to  argoo  the  case  with 
her  umbrella,  never  lettin'  go  of  my  shirt  collar. 
Sir,  she  argood  until  dinner  time,  an'  then  she  re- 
soomed  the  debate  until  I  fell  asleep.  The  last  I 
knowed  she  was  still  conversm'. 

194 


One  Over 


"An'  so  it  went  next  day,  all  day  long,  an'  the 
next  day.  I  couldn't  stand  it  no  longer  so  I  started 
for  Fort  Carcajau.  But  she  bein'  onto  a  mule,  run 
me  down  easy,  an'  kep'  beside  me  conversin'  voloo- 
ble. 

"Sir,  do  you  know  what  it  is  to  listen  to  umbrella 
argooment  every  day,  all  day  long,  from  sun-up  to 
night- fall?  An'  then  some  more? 

"I  was  loony,  I  tell  you,  when  we  met  the  mis 
sion  priest.  'Marry  me,'  sez  she,  'or  I'll  talk  you  to 
death!"  I  didn't  realise  what  she  was  sayin'  an' 
what  I  answered.  But  them  words  I  uttered  done 
the  job,  it  seems. 

"We  camped  there  an'  slep'  for  two  days  without 
wakin.'  When  I  waked  up  I  was  convalescent. 

"She  was  good  to  me.  She  made  soup  an'  she 
wrapped  blankets  onto  me  an'  she  didn't  talk  no 
more  until  I  was  well  enough  to  endoor  it. 

"An'  by'm'by  she  brooke  the  nooze  to  me  that  we 
was  married  an'  that  she  had  went  as  far  as  to 
marry  me  in  the  sacred  cause  of  science  because  man 
an'  wife  is  one,  an'  what  I  knowed  about  them 
ellerphants  she  now  had  a  right  to  know. 

"Sir,  she  had  put  one  over  on  me.    So  bein'  strick- 

195 


Police!  !  ! 


ly  hones'  I  had  to  show  her  where  them  ellerphants 
lay  froze  up  under  the  marsh." 


WHERE  the  ambition  of  this  infatuated 
woman  had  led  her  appalled  us  all.  The 
personal  sacrifice  she  had  made  in  the 
name  of  science  awed  us. 

Still  when  I  remembered  that  detaining  arm 
sleepily  lifted  from  the  nuptual  hammock,  I  was  not 
so  certain  concerning  her  continued  martyrdom. 

I  cast  an  involuntary  glance  of  critical  appraisal 
upon  James  Skaw.  He  had  the  golden  hair  and 
beard  of  the  early  Christian  martyr.  His  features 
were  classically  regular;  he  stood  six  feet  six;  he 
was  lean  because  fit,  sound  as  a  hound's  tooth,  and 
really  a  superb  specimen  of  masculine  health. 

Curry  him  and  trim  him  and  clothe  him  in  evening 
dress  and  his  physical  appearance  would  make  a  sen 
sation  at  the  Court  of  St.  James.  Only  his  Eng 
lish  required  manicuring. 

The  longer  I  looked  at  him  the  better  I  compre- 

196 


One  Over 


bended  that  detaining  hand  from  the  hammock.  Fa- 
bas  indulcet  fames. 

Then,  with  a  shock,  it  rushed  over  me  that  there 
evidently  had  been  some  ground  for  this  man's  let 
ters  to  me  concerning  a  herd  of  frozen  mammoths. 

Professor  Bottomly  had  not  only  married  him  to 
obtain  the  information  but  here  she  was  still  camp 
ing  on  the  marsh! 

"James  Skaw,"  I  said,  tremulously,  "where  are 
those  mammoths?" 

He  looked  at  me,  then  made  a  vague  gesture: 

"Under  the  mud — everywhere — all  around  us." 

"Has  she  seen  them?" 

"Yes,  I  showed  her  about  a  hundred.  There's  one 
under  you.  Look!  you  can  see  him  through  the 
slush." 

"Ach  Gott!"  burst  from  Dr.  Fooss,  and  he  tot 
tered  in  his  saddle.  Lezard,  frightfully  pale,  passed 
a  shaking  hand  over  his  brow.  As  for  me  my  hair 
became  dank  with  misery,  for  there  directly  under 
my  feet,  the  vast  hairy  bulk  of  a  mammoth  lay  dimly 
visible  through  the  muddy  ice. 

What  I  had  done  to  myself  when  I  was  planning 
to  do  Professor  Bottomly  suddenly  burst  upon  me 

197 


Police!  !  ! 


in  all  its  hideous  proportions.  Fame,  the  plaudits 
of  the  world,  the  highest  scientific  honours — all 
these  in  my  effort  to  annihilate  her,  I  had  deliber 
ately  thrust  upon  this  woman  to  my  own  everlast 
ing  detriment  and  disgrace. 

A  sort  of  howl  escaped  from  Dr.  Fooss,  who  had 
dismounted  and  who  had  been  scratching  in  the 
slush  with  his  feet  like  a  hen.  For  already  this  slight 
gallinaceous  effort  of  his  had  laid  bare  a  hairy  sec 
tion  of  frozen  mammoth. 

Lezard,  weeping  bitterly,  squatted  beside  him 
clawing  at  the  thin  skin  of  ice  with  a  pick-axe. 

It  seemed  more  than  I  could  bear  and  I  flung  my 
self  from  my  mule  and  seizing  a  spade,  fell  violently 
to  work,  the  tears  of  rage  and  mortification  cours 
ing  down  my  cheeks. 

"Hurrah !"  cried  Dr.  Delmour,  excitedly,  scram 
bling  down  from  her  mule  and  lifting  a  box  of  dyna 
mite  from  her  saddle-bags. 

Transfigured  with  enthusiasm  she  seized  a  crow 
bar,  traced  in  the  slush  the  huge  outlines  of  the  bur 
ied  beast,  then,  measuring  with  practiced  eye  the 
irregular  zone  of  cleavage,  she  marked  out  a  vast 
oval,  dug  holes  along  it  with  her  bar,  dropped  into 

198 


One  Over 


each  hole  a  stick  of  dynamite,  got  out  the  batteries 
and  wires,  attached  the  fuses,  covered  each  charge, 
and  retired  on  a  run  toward  the  moraine,  unreeling 
wire  as  she  sped  upward  among  the  bowlders. 

Half  frantic  with  grief  and  half  mad  with  the  ex 
citement  of  the  moment  we  still  had  sense  enough  to 
shoulder  our  tools  and  drive  our  mules  back  across 
the  moraine. 

Only  the  mule-hammock  in  which  reposed  Pro 
fessor  Bottomly  remained  on  the  marsh.  For  one 
horrid  instant  temptation  assailed  me  to  press  the 
button  before  James  Skaw  could  lead  the  hammock- 
mules  up  to  the  moraine.  It  was  my  closest  ap 
proach  to  crime. 

With  a  shudder  I  viewed  the  approach  of  the 
mules.  James  Skaw  led  them  by  the  head ;  the  ham 
mock  on  its  bar  and  swivels  swung  gently  between 
them ;  Professor  Bottomly  slept,  lulled,  no  doubt,  to 
deeper  slumber  by  the  gently  swaying  hammock. 

When  the  hammock  came  up,  one  by  one  we  gazed 
upon  its  unconscious  occupant. 

And,  even  amid  dark  and  revengeful  thoughts, 
amid  a  mental  chaos  of  grief  and  fury  and  frantic 
self-reproach,  I  had  to  admit  to  myself  that  Jane 

199 


Police!  !  ! 


Bottomly  was  a  fine  figure  of  a  woman,  and  good- 
looking,  too,  and  that  her  hair  was  all  her  own  and 
almost  magnificent  at  that. 

With  a  modiste  to  advise  her,  a  maid  to  dress  her, 
I  myself  might  have — but  let  that  pass.  Only  as  I 
gazed  upon  her  fresh  complexion  and  the  softly 
parted  red  lips  of  Professor  Bottomly,  and  as  I 
noted  the  beautiful  white  throat  and  prettily  shaped 
hands,  a  newer,  bitterer,  and  more  overwhelming 
despair  seized  me;  and  I  realized  now  that  perhaps 
I  had  thrown  away  more  than  fame,  honours,  ap 
plause;  I  had  perhaps  thrown  away  love! 

At  that  moment  Professor  Bottomly  awoke.  For 
a  moment  her  lilac-tinted  eyes  had  a  dazed  expres 
sion,  then  they  widened,  and  she  lay  very  quietly 
looking  from  one  to  another  of  us,  cradled  in  the 
golden  glory  of  her  hair,  perfectly  mistress  of  her 
self,  and  her  mind  as  clear  as  a  bell. 

"Well,"  she  said,  "so  you  have  arrived  at  last." 
And  to  Dr.  Delmour  she  smilingly  extended  a  cool, 
fresh  hand. 

"Have  you  met  my  husband?"  she  inquired. 

We  admitted  that  \ve  had. 

"James!"  she  called. 

200 


"  Out  of  the  mud  rose  five  or  six  dozen  mammoths." 


Police!  !  ! 


At  the  sound  of  her  voice  James  Skaw  hopped 
nimbly  to  do  her  bidding.  A  tender  smile  came  into 
her  face  as  she  gazed  upon  her  husband.  She  made 
no  explanation  concerning  him,  no  apology  for  him. 
And,  watching  her,  it  slowly  filtered  into  my  mind 
that  she  liked  him. 

With  one  hand  in  her  husband's  and  one  on  Dr. 
Delmour's  arm  she  listened  to  Daisy's  account  of 
what  we  were  about  to  do  to  the  imbedded 
mammoth,  and  nodded  approval. 

James  Skaw  turned  the  mules  so  that  she  might 
watch  the  explosion.  She  twisted  up  her  hair,  then 
sat  up  in  her  hammock ;  Daisy  Delmour  pressed  the 
electric  button;  there  came  a  deep  jarring  sound, 
a  vast  upheaval,  and  up  out  of  the  mud  rose  five  or 
six  dozen  mammoths  and  toppled  gently  over  upon 
the  surface  of  the  ice. 

Miserable  as  we  were  at  such  an  astonishing  spec 
tacle  we  raised  a  tragic  cheer  as  Professor  Bottomly 
sprang  out  of  her  hammock  and,  telling  Dr.  Del 
mour  to  get  a  camera,  seized  her  husband  and  sped 
down  to  where  one  of  the  great,  hairy  frozen  beasts 
lay  on  the  ice  in  full  sunshine. 

And  then  we  tasted  the  last  drop  of  gall  which 

202 


Police!  !  ! 


our  over-slopping  cup  of  bitterness  held  for  us; 
Professor  Bottomly  climbed  up  the  sides  of  the 
frozen  mammoth,  dragging  her  husband  with  her, 
and  stood  there  waving  a  little  American  flag  while 
Dr.  Delmour  used  up  every  film  in  the  camera  to 
record  the  scientific  triumph  of  the  ages. 

Almost  idiotic  with  the  shock  of  my  great  grief  I 
reeled  and  tottered  away  among  the  bowlders. 
Fooss  came  to  find  me;  and  when  he  found  me  he 
kicked  me  violently  for  some  time.  "Esel  dum- 
kopf!"  hesaid. 

When  he  was  tired  Lezard  came  and  fell  upon  me, 
showering  me  with  kicks  and  anathema. 

When  he  went  away  I  beat  my  head  with  my  fists 
for  a  while.  Every  little  helped. 

After  a  time  I  smelled  cooking,  and  presently  Dr. 
Delmour  came  to  where  I  sat  huddled  up  miserably 
in  the  sun  behind  the  bowlder. 

"Luncheon  is  ready,"  she  said. 

I  groaned. 

"Don't  you  feel  well?" 

I  said  that  I  did  not. 

She  lingered  apparently  with  the  idea  of  cheering 
me  up.  "It's  been  such  fun,"  she  said.  "Professor 

204 


One  Over 


Lezard  and  I  have  already  located  over  a  hundred 
and  fifty  mammoths  within  a  short  distance  of  here, 
and  apparently  there  are  hundreds,  if  not  thousands, 
more  in  the  vicinity.  The  ivory  alone  is  worth  over 
a  million  dollars.  Isn't  it  wonderful !" 

She  laughed  excitedly  and  danced  away  to  join 
the  others.  Then,  out  of  the  black  depth  of  my 
misery  a  feeble  gleam  illuminated  the  Stygian  ob 
scurity.  There  was  one  way  left  to  stay  my  ap 
proaching  downfall — only  one.  Professor  Bottom- 
ly  meant  to  get  rid  of  me,  "for  the  good  of  the 
Bronx,"  but  there  remained  a  way  to  ward  off  im 
pending  disaster.  And  though  I  had  lost  the  op 
portunity  of  my  life  by  disbelieving  the  simple  hon 
esty  of  James  Skaw, — and  though  the  honors  and 
emoluments  and  applause  which  ought  to  have  been 
mine  were  destined  for  this  determined  woman,  still, 
if  I  kept  my  head,  I  should  be  able  to  hold  my  job 
at  the  Bronx. 

Dr.  Delmour  was  immovable  in  the  good  graces  of 
Professor  Bottomly ;  and  the  only  way  for  me  to  re 
tain  my  position  was  to  marry  her. 

The  thought  comforted  me.  After  a  while  I  felt 
well  enough  to  arise  and  partake  of  some  luncheon. 

15  205 


Police!  !  ! 


They  were  all  seated  around  the  campfire  when  I 
approached.  I  was  welcomed  politely,  inquiries  con 
cerning  my  health  were  offered;  but  the  coldly 
malevolent  glare  of  Dr.  Fooss  and  the  calm  contempt 
in  Lezard's  gaze  chilled  me ;  and  I  squatted  down  by 
Daisy  Delmour  and  accepted  a  dish  of  soup  from 
her  in  mortified  silence. 

Professor  Bottomly  and  James  Skaw  were  feast 
ing  connubially  side  by  side,  and  she  was  selecting 
titbits  for  him  which  he  dutifully  swallowed,  his 
large  mild  eyes  gazing  at  vacancy  in  a  gentle,  sur 
prised  sort  of  way  as  he  gulped  down  what  she 
offered  him. 

Neither  of  them  paid  any  attention  to  anybody 
else. 

Fooss  gobbled  his  lunch  in  a  sort  of  raging  silence ; 
Lezard,  on  the  other  side  of  Dr.  Delmour,  conversed 
with  her  continually  in  undertones. 

After  a  while  his  persistent  murmuring  began  to 
make  me  uneasy,  even  suspicious,  and  I  glared  at 
him  sideways. 

Daisy  Delmour,  catching  my  eye,  blushed,  hesi 
tated,  then  leaning  over  toward  me  with  delightful 
confusion  she  whispered : 

206 


"'Everybody  has  put  one  over  on  me!'  I  shrieked." 


One  O'cer 


"I  know  that  you  will  be  glad  to  hear  that  I  have 
just  promised  to  marry  your  closest  friend,  Profes 
sor  Lezard " 

"What!"  I  shouted  with  all  my  might,  "have  you 
put  one  over  on  me,  too?" 

Lezard  and  Fooss  seized  me,  for  I  had  risen  and 
was  jumping  up  and  down  and  splashing  them  with 
soup. 

"Even-body  has  put  one  over  on  me !"  I  shrieked. 
"Everybody!  Now  I'm  going  to  put  one  over  on 
myself!" 

And  I  lifted  my  plate  of  soup  and  reversed  it  on 
my  head. 

They  told  me  later  that  I  screamed  for  half  an 
hour  before  I  swooned. 

Afterward,  my  intellect  being  impaired,  instead 
of  being  dismissed  from  my  department,  I  was 
promoted  to  the  position  which  I  now  hold  as 
President  Emeritus  of  the  Consolidated  Art  Mu 
seums  and  Zoological  Gardens  of  the  City  of  N 
York. 

I  have  easy  hours,  little  to  do.  and  twenty  orna 
mental  stenographers  and  typewriters  engaged  upon 
my  memoirs  which  I  dictate  when  I  feel  like  it, 

207 


Police!  !  ! 


steeped  in  the  aroma  of  the  most  inexpensive  cigar 
I  can  buy  at  the  Rolling  Stone  Inn. 

There  is  one  typist  in  particular — but  let  that  pass. 

Vir  sapit  qui  pauca  loquitor. 


B'l!' 


UN   PEU  D'AMOUR 


UN  PEU  D'AMOUR 

WHEN  I  returned  to  the  plateau  from  my 
investigation    of    the    crater,    I    realized 
that  I  had  descended  the  grassy  pit  as 
far  as  any  human  being  could  descend.     No  living 
creature  could  pass  that  barrier  of  flame  and  va 
pour.    Of  that  I  was  convinced. 

Now,  not  only  the  crater  but  its  steaming  effluvia 
was  utterly  unlike  anything  I  had  ever  before  be- 

211 


Police!  !  ! 


held.  There  was  no  trace  of  lava  to  be  seen,  or  of 
pumice,  ashes,  or  of  volcanic  rejecta  in  any  form 
whatever.  There  were  no  sulphuric  odours,  no 
pungent  fumes,  nothing  to  teach  the  olfactory  nerves 
what  might  be  the  nature  of  the  silvery  steam  rising 
from  the  crater  incessantly  in  a  vast  circle,  ringing 
its  circumference  halfway  down  the  slope. 

Under  this  thin  curtain  of  steam  a  ring  of  pale 
yellow  flames  played  and  sparkled,  completely  en 
circling  the  slope. 

The  crater  was  about  half  a  mile  deep;  the  sides 
sloped  gently  to  the  bottom. 

But  the  odd  feature  of  the  entire  phenomenon 
was  this :  the  bottom  of  the  crater  seemed  to  be  en 
tirely  free  from  fire  and  vapour.  It  was  disk- 
shaped,  sandy,  and  flat,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  in 
diameter.  Through  my  field-glasses  I  could  see 
patches  of  grass  and  wild  flowers  growing  in  the 
sand  here  and  there,  and  the  sparkle  of  water,  and 
a  crow  or  two,  feeding  and  walking  about. 

I  looked  at  the  girl  who  was  standing  beside  me, 
then  cast  a  glance  around  at  the  very  unusual  land 
scape. 

We  were  standing  on  the  summit  of  a  moun- 

212 


Un  Peu  d'Amour 


tain  some  two  thousand  feet  high,  looking  into  a 
cup-shaped  depression  or  crater,  on  the  edges  of 
which  we  stood. 

This  low,  flat-topped  mountain,  as  I  say,  was 
grassy  and  quite  treeless,  although  it  rose  like  a 
truncated  sugar-cone  out  of  a  wilderness  of  trees 
which  stretched  for  miles  below  us,  north,  south, 
east,  and  west,  bordered  on  the  horizon  by  towering 
blue  mountains,  their  distant  ranges  enclosing  the 
forests  as  in  a  vast  amphitheatre. 

From  the  centre  of  this  enormous  green  floor 
of  foliage  rose  our  grassy  hill,  and  it  appeared  to 
be  the  only  irregularity  which  broke  the  level  wil 
derness  as  far  as  the  base  of  the  dim  blue  ranges 
encircling  the  horizon. 

Except  for  the  log  bungalow  of  Mr.  Blythe  on 
the  eastern  edge  of  this  grassy  plateau,  there  was 
not  a  human  habitation  in  sight,  nor  a  trace  of 
man's  devastating  presence  in  the  wilderness 
around  us. 

Again  I  looked  questioningly  at  the  girl  beside 
me  and  she  looked  back  at  me  rather  seriously. 

"Shall  we  seat  ourselves  here  in  the  sun?"  she 
asked. 

213 


Police!  I ! 


I  nodded. 

Very  gravely  we  settled  down  side  by  side  on  the 
thick  green  grass. 

"Now,"  she  said,  "I  shall  tell  you  why  il  wrote 
you  to  come  out  here.  Shall  I?" 

"By  all  means,  Miss  Blythe." 

Sitting  cross-legged,  she  gathered  her  ankles  into 
her  hands,  settling  herself  as  snugly  on  the  grass 
as  a  bird  settles  on  its  nest. 

"The  phenomena  of  nature/'  she  said,  "have  al 
ways  interested  me  intensely,  not  only  from  the  ar 
tistic  angle  but  from  the  scientific  point  of  view. 

"It  is  different  with  father.  He  is  a  painter;  he 
cares  only  for  the  artistic  aspects  of  nature.  Phe 
nomena  of  a  scientific  nature  bore  him.  Also,  you 
may  have  noticed  that  he  is  of  a — a  slightly  impa 
tient  disposition." 

I  had  noticed  it.  He  had  been  anything  but  civil 
to  me  when  I  arrived  the  night  before,  after  a  five- 
hundred  mile  trip  on  a  mule,  from  the  nearest  rail 
road — a  journey  performed  entirely  alone  and  by 
compass,  there  being  no  trail  after  the  first  fifty 
miles. 

To  characterize  Blythe  as  slightly  impatient  was 

214 


Un  Pen  d' Amour 


letting  him  down  easy.  He  was  a  selfish,  bad-tem 
pered  old  pig. 

"Yes,"  I  said,  answering  her,  "I  did  notice  a 
negligible  trace  of  impatience  about  your  father." 

She  flushed. 

"You  see  I  did  not  inform  my  father  that  I  had 
written  to  you.  He  doesn't  like  strangers;  he 
doesn't  like  scientists.  I  did  not  dare  tell  him  that 
I  had  asked  you  to  come  out  here.  It  was  entirely 
my  own' idea.  I  felt  that  I  must  write  you  because 
I  am  positive  that  what  is  happening  in  this  wilder 
ness  is  of  vital  scientific  importance." 

"How  did  you  get  a  letter  out  of  this  distant  and 
desolate  place?"  I  asked. 

"Every  two  months  the  storekeeper  at  Wind- 
flower  Station  sends  in  a  man  and  a  string  of  mules 
with  staples  for  us.  The  man  takes  our  further 
orders  and  our  letters  back  to  civilization." 

I  nodded. 

"He  took  my  letter  to  you — among  one  or  two 
others  I  sent — " 

A  charming  colour  came  into  her  cheeks.  She 
was  really  extremely  pretty.  I  liked  that  girl. 
When  a  girl  blushes  when  she  speaks  to  a  man  he 

215 


Police!  !  ! 


immediately  accepts  her  heightened  colour  as  a  per 
sonal  tribute.  This  is  not  vanity :  it  is  merely  a 
proper  sense  of  personal  worthiness. 

She  said  thoughtfully : 

"The  mail  bag  which  that  man  brought  to  us  last 
week  contained  a  letter  which,  had  I  received  it 
earlier,  would  have  made  my  invitation  to  you  un 
necessary.  I'm  sorry  I  disturbed  you." 

"I  am  not,"  said  I,  looking  into  her  beautiful 
eyes. 

I  twisted  my  mustache  into  two  attractive  points, 
shot  my  cuffs,  and  glanced  at  her  again,  receptively. 

She  had  a  far-away  expression  in  her  eyes.  I 
straightened  my  necktie.  A  man,  without  being 
vain,  ought  to  be  conscious  of  his  own  worth. 

"And  now,"  she  continued,  "I  am  going  to  tell 
you  the  various  reasons  why  I  asked  so  celebrated 
a  scientist  as  yourself  to  come  here." 

I  thanked  her  for  her  encomium. 

"Ever  since  my  father  retired  from  Boston  to 
purchase  this  hill  and  the  wilderness  surrounding  it," 
she  went  on,  "ever  since  he  came  here  to  live  a  her 
mit's  life — a  life  devoted  solely  to  painting  land 
scapes — I  also  have  lived  here  all  alone  with  him. 

316 


Un  Pen  d' Amour 


"That  is  three  years,  now.  And  from  the  very 
beginning — from  the  very  first  day  of  our  ar 
rival,  somehow  or  other  I  was  conscious  that  there 
was  something  abnormal  about  this  corner  of  the 
world." 

She  bent  forward,  lowering  her  voice  a  trifle : 

"Have  you  noticed,"  she  asked,  "that  so  many 
things  seem  to  be  circular  out  here?" 

"Circular?"  I  repeated,  surprised. 

"Yes.  That  crater  is  circular;  so  is  the  bottom 
of  it ;  so  is  this  plateau,  and  the  hill ;  and  the  forests 
surrounding  us;  and  the  mountain  ranges  on  the 
horizon." 

"But  all  this  is  natural." 

"Perhaps.  But  in  those  woods,  down  there, 
there  are,  here  and  there,  great  circles  of  crumbling 
soil — perfect  circles  a  mile  in  diameter." 

"Mounds  built  by  prehistoric  man,  no  doubt." 

She  shook  her  head: 

"These  are  not  prehistoric  mounds." 

"Why  not?" 

"Because  they  have  been  freshly  made." 

"How  do  you  know  ?" 

"The    earth    is    freshly    upheaved;    great    trees, 

217 


Police!  !  ! 


partly  uprooted,  slant  at  every  angle  from  the  sides 
of  the  enormous  piles  of  newly  upturned  earth; 
sand  and  stones  are  still  sliding  from  the  raw 
ridges." 

She  leaned  nearer  and  dropped  her  voice  still 
lower  : 

"More  than  that,"  she  said,  "my  father  and  I 
both  have  seen  one  of  these  huge  circles  in  the  mak 
ing!" 

"What!"  I  exclaimed,  incredulously. 

"It  is  true.  We  have  seen  several.  And  it  en 
rages  father." 

"Enrages?" 

"Yes,  because  it  upsets  the  trees  where  he  is 
painting  landscapes,  and  tilts  them  in  every  direc 
tion.  Which,  of  course,  ruins  his  picture;  and  he 
is  obliged  to  start  another,  which  vexes  him  dread 
fully." 

I  think  I  must  have  gaped  at  her  in  sheer  astonish 
ment. 

"But  there  is  something  more  singular  than  that 
for  you  to  investigate,"  she  said  calmly.  "Look 
down  at  that  circle  of  steam  which  makes  a  per 
fect  ring  around  the  bowl  of  the  crater,  halfway 

218 


Un  Pen  d 'Amour 


down.  Do  you  see  the  flicker  of  fire  under  the 
vapour  ?" 

"Yes." 

She  leaned  so  near  and  spoke  in  such  a  low  voice 
that  her  fragrant  breath  fell  upon  my  cheek: 

"In  the  fire,  under  the  vapours,  there  are  little 
animals." 

"What!!" 

"Little  beasts  live  in  the  fire — slim,  furry  crea 
tures,  smaller  than  a  weasel.  I've  seen  them  peep 
out  of  the  fire  and  scurry  back  into  it.  ...  Now 
are  you  sorry  that  I  wrote  you  to  come?  And 
will  you  forgive  me  for  bringing  you  out  here?" 

An  indescribable  excitement  seized  me,  endow 
ing  me  with  a  fluency  and  eloquence  unusual : 

"I  thank  you  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart!"  I 
cried ;  " — from  the  depths  of  a  heart  the  emotions  of 
which  are  entirely  and  exclusively  of  scientific 
origin !" 

In  the  impulse  of  the  moment  I  held  out  my 
hand;  she  laid  hers  in  it  with  charming  diffi 
dence. 

"Yours  is  the  discovery,"  I  said.  "Yours  shall 
be  the  glory.  Fame  shall  crown  you;  and  perhaps 

219 


Police!  !  ! 


if  there  remains  any  reflected  light  in  the  form  of  a 
by-product,  some  modest  and  negligible  little  ray 
may  chance  to  illuminate  me." 

Surprised  and  deeply  moved  by  my  eloquence,  I 
bent  over  her  hand  and  saluted  it  with  my  lips. 

She   thanked  me.      Her  pretty    face  was   rosy. 

It  appeared  that  she  had  three  cows  to  milk,  new- 
laid  eggs  to  gather,  and  the  construction  of  some 
fresh  butter  to  be  accomplished. 

At  the  bars  of  the  grassy  pasture  slope  she 
dropped  me  a  curtsey,  declining  very  shyly  to  let 
me  carry  her  lacteal  paraphernalia. 

So  I  continued  on  to  the  bungalow  garden,  where 
Blythe  sat  on  a  camp  stool  under  a  green  umbrella, 
painting  a  picture  of  something  or  other. 

"Mr.  Blythe !"  I  cried,  striving  to  subdue  my  en 
thusiasm.  "The  eyes  of  the  scientific  world  are 
now  open  upon  this  house!  The  searchlight  of 
Fame  is  about  to  be  turned  upon  you " 

"I  prefer  privacy,"  he  interrupted.  "That's  why 
I  came  here.  I'll  be  obliged  if  you'll  turn  off  that 
searchlight." 

"But,  my  dear  Mr.  Blythe " 

"I  want  to  be  let  alone,"  he  repeated  irritably. 

220 


Un  Peu  d'Amour 


"I  came  out  here  to  paint  and  to  enjoy  privately 
my  own  paintings." 

If  what  stood  on  his  easel  was  a  sample  of  his 
pictures,  nobody  was  likely  to  share  his  enjoyment. 

"Your  work,"  said  I,  politely,  "is— is " 

"Is  what!"  he  snapped.  "What  is  it — if  you 
think  you  know?" 

"It  is  entirely,  so  to  speak,  per  se — by  itself " 

"What  the  devil  do  you  mean  by  that?" 

I  looked  at  his  picture,  appalled.  The  entire  can 
vas  was  one  monotonous  vermillion  conflagration. 
I  examined  it  with  my  head  on  one  side,  then  on 
the  other  side;  I  made  a  funnel  with  both  hands 
and  peered  intently  through  it  at  the  picture.  A 
menacing  murmuring  sound  came  from  him. 

"Satisfying  —  exquisitely  satisfying,"  I  con 
cluded.  "I  have  often  seen  such  sunsets " 

"What!" 

"I  mean  such  prairie  fires " 

"Damnation!"  he  exclaimed.  "I'm  painting  a 
bowl  of  nasturtiums !" 

"I  was  speaking  purely  in  metaphor,"  said  I  with 
a  sickly  smile.  "To  me  a  nasturtium  by  the  river 
brink  is  more  than  a  simple  flower.  It  is  a  broader, 

16  221 


Police!  !  ! 


grader,  more  magnificent,  more  stupendous  sym 
bol.  It  may  mean  anything,  everything—  such  as 
sun:ts  and  conflagrations  and  Gotterdammerungs  ! 
Or-"  and  my  voice  was  subtly  modulated  to  an 
apjaling  and  persuasive  softness—  "it  may  mean 
noting  at  all—  -chaos,  void,  vacuum,  negation,  the 
isite  annihilation  of  what  has  never  even  ex- 

i." 

Te  glared  at  me  over  his  shoulder.  If  he  was 
inxted  by  Cubist  tendencies  he  evidently  had  not 
urerstood  what  I  said. 

If  you  won't  talk  about  my  pictures  I  don't 
mid  your  investigating  this  district,"  he  grunted, 
dobing  at  his  palette  and  plastering  a  wad  of  ver- 
mion  upon  his  canvas;  "but  I  object  to  any  public 
irasion  of  my  artistic  privacy  until  I  am  ready  for 
if 

'When  will  that  be?" 

He  pointed  with  one  vermilion-soaked  brush  to- 
\ird  a  long,  low,  log  building. 

"In  that  structure,"  he  said,  "are  packed  one 
tousand  and  ninety-five  paintings—  all  signed  by 
ic.  I  have  executed  one  or  two  every  day  since  I 
ime  here.  When  I  have  painted  exactly  ten  thou- 


222 


Un  Pen  d' Amour 


sand  pictures,  no  more,  no  less,  I  shall  erec  here  a 
gallery  large  enough  to  contain  them  all. 

"Only  real  lovers  of  art  will  ever  comehere  to 
study  them.  It  is  five  hundred  miles  from  he  rail 
road.  Therefore,  I  shall  never  have  to  enure  the 
praises  of. the  dilettante,  the  patronage  of  tb  idler, 
the  vapid  rhapsodies  of  the  vulgar.  Onl  those 
who  understand  will  care  to  make  the  pilgrnage." 

He  waved  his  brushes  at  me  : 

"The  conservation  of  national  resources  is  all 
well  enough — the  setting  aside  of  timber  nerves, 
game  preserves,  bird  refuges,  all  these  projtts  are 
very  good  in  a  way.  But  I  have  dedicated  tls  wil 
derness  as  a  last  and  only  refuge  in  all  theworld 
for  true  Art!  Because  true  Art,  except  fr  my 
pictures,  is,  I  believe,  now  practically  etinct! 
.  .  .  You're  in  my  way.  Would  you  mind  gtting 
out?" 

I  had  sidled  around  between  him  and  hisbowl 
of  nasturtiums,  and  I  hastily  stepped  aside.  He 
squinted  at  the  flowers,  mixed  up  a  flambyant 
mess  of  colour  on  his  palette,  and  daubed  iway 
with  unfeigned  satisfaction,  no  longer  noticir  me 
until  I  started  to  go.  Then : 

223 


Police!  !  ! 


"What  is  it  you're  here  for,  anyway?"  he  de 
manded  abruptly.  I  said  with  dignity : 

"I  am  here  to  investigate  those  huge  rings  of 
earth  thrown  up  in  the  forest  as  by  a  gigantic 
mole."  He  continued  to  paint  for  a  few  moments : 

"Well,  go  and  investigate  'em,"  he  snapped. 
"I'm  not  infatuated  with  your  society." 

"What  do  you  think  they  are?"  I  asked,  mildly 
ignoring  his  wretched  manners. 

"I  don't  know  and  I  don't  care,  except,  that  some 
times  when  I  begin  to  paint  several  trees,  the  very 
trees  I'm  painting  are  suddenly  heaved  up  and  tilted 
in  every  direction,  and  all  my  work  goes  for  nothing. 
That  makes  me  mad !  Otherwise,  the  matter  has  no 
interest  for  me." 

"But  what  in  the  world  could  cause " 

"I  don't  know  and  I  don't  care!"  he  shouted, 
waving  palette  and  brushes  angrily.  "Maybe  it's 
an  army  of  moles  working  all  together  under  the 
ground;  maybe  it's  some  species  of  circular  earth 
quake.  I  don't  know!  'I  don't  care!  But  it  an 
noys  me.  And  if  you  can  devise  any  scientific 
means  to  stop  it,  I'll  be  much  obliged  to  you.  Other 
wise,  to  be  perfectly  frank,  you  bore  me." 

224 


Un  Peu  d' Amour 


"The  mission  of  Science,"  said  I  solemnly,  "is  to 
alleviate  the  inconveniences  of  mundane  existence. 
Science,  therefore,  shall  extend  a  helping  hand  to 
her  frailer  sister,  Art " 

"Science  can't  patronize  Art  while  I'm  around!" 
he  retorted.  "I  won't  have  it!" 

"But,  my  dear  Mr.  Blythe " 

"I  won't  dispute  with  you,  either!  I  don't  like 
to  dispute!"  he  shouted.  "Don't  try  to  make  me. 
Don't  attempt  to  inveigle  me  into  discussion!  I 
know  all  I  want  to  know.  I  don't  want  to  know 
anything  you  want  me  to  know,  either!" 

I  looked  at  the  old  pig  in  haughty  silence,  nau 
seated  by  his  conceit. 

After  he  had  plastered  a  few  more  tubes  of  ver 
milion  over  his  canvas  he  quieted  down,  and  pres 
ently  gave  me  an  oblique  glance  over  his  shoulder. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "what  else  are  you  intending  to 
investigate?" 

"Those  little  animals  that  live  in  the  crater  fires," 
I  said  bluntly. 

"Yes,"  he  nodded,  indifferently,  "there  are  crea 
tures  which  live  somewhere  in  the  fires  of  that 
crater." 

225 


Police!  !  ! 


"Do  you  realize  what  an  astounding  statement 
you  are  making?"  I  asked. 

"It  doesn't  astound  me.  What  do  I  care  whether 
it  astounds  you  or  anybody  else  ?  Nothing  interests 
me  except  Art." 

"But " 

"I  tell  you  nothing  interests  me  except  Art!"  he 
yelled.  "Don't  dispute  it!  Don't  answer  me! 
Don't  irritate  me!  I  don't  care  whether  anything 
lives  in  the  fire  or  not !  Let  it  live  there !" 

"But  have  you  actually  seen  live  creatures  in  the 
flames?" 

"Plenty!  Plenty!  What  of  it?  What  about  it? 
Let  'em  live  there,  for  all  I  care.  I've  painted 
pictures  of  'em,  too.  That's  all  that  interests 
me." 

"What  do  they  look  like,  Mr.  Blythe?" 

"Look  like?  I  don't  know!  They  look  like 
weasels  or  rats  or  bats  or  cats  or — stop  asking  me 
questions!  It  irritates  me!  It  depresses  me! 
Don't  ask  any  more!  Why  don't  you  go  in  to 
lunch  ?  And — tell  my  daughter  to  bring  me  a  bowl 
of  salad  out  here.  I've  no  time  to  stuff  myself. 
Some  people  have.  /  haven't.  You'd  better  go  in 

226 


"  Miss  Blythe  had  carried  to  her  father 
a  large  bucket  of  lettuce  leaves." 


Police!  !  ! 


to  lunch.  .  .  .  And  tell  my  daughter  to  bring  me 
seven  tubes  of  Chinese  vermilion  with  my  salad!" 

"You  don't  mean  to  mix — "  I  began,  then 
checked  myself  before  his  fury. 

"I'd  rather  eat  vermilion  paint  on  my  salad  than 
sit  here  talking  to  you!"  he  shouted. 

I  cast  a  pitying  glance  at  this  impossible  man, 
and  went  into  the  house.  After  all,  he  was  her 
father.  I  had  to  endure  him. 

After  Miss  Blythe  had  carried  to  her  father  a 
large  bucket  of  lettuce  leaves,  she  returned  to  the 
veranda  of  the  bungalow. 

A  delightful  luncheon  awaited  us;  I  seated  her, 
then  took  the  chair  opposite. 

A  delicious  omelette,  fresh  biscuit,  salad,  and 
strawberry  preserves,  and  a  tall  tumbler  of  iced  tea 
imbued  me  with  a  sort  of  mild  exhilaration. 

Out  of  the  corner  of  my  eye  I  could  see  Blythe 
down  in  the  garden,  munching  his  lettuce  leaves 
like  an  ill-tempered  rabbit,  and  daubing  away  at 
his  picture  while  he  munched. 

"Your  father,"  said  I  politely,  "is  something  of 
a  genius." 

228 


Un  Peu  d'Amour 


"I  am  so  glad  you  think  so,"  she  said  gratefully. 
"But  don't  tell  him  so.  He  has  been  surfeited  with 
praise  in  Boston.  That  is  why  we  came  out  here." 

"Art,"  said  I,  "is  like  science,  or  tobacco,  or 
tooth-wash.  Every  man  to  his  own  brand.  Per 
sonally,  I  don't  care  for  his  kind.  But  who  can 
say  which  is  the  best  kind  of  anything?  Only  the 
consumer.  Your  father  is  his  own  consumer.  He 
is  the  best  judge  of  what  he  likes.  And  that  is  the 
only  true  test  of  art,  or  anything  else." 

"How  delightfully  you  reason !"  she  said.  "How 
logically,  how  generously!" 

"Reason  is  the  handmaid  of  Science,  Miss 
Blythe." 

She  seemed  to  understand  me.  Her  quick  intelli 
gence  surprised  me,  because  I  myself  was  not  per 
fectly  sure  whether  I  had  emitted  piffle  or  an  epi 
gram. 

As  we  ate  our  strawberry  preserves  we  discussed 
ways  and  means  of  capturing  a  specimen  of  the 
little  fire  creatures  which,  as  she  explained,  so  fre 
quently  peeped  out  at  her  from  the  crater  fires,  and, 
at  her  slightest  movement,  scurried  back  again  into 
the  flames.  Of  course  I  believed  that  this  was  only 

229 


Police!  !  ! 


her  imagination.  Yet,  for  years  I  had  entertained 
a  theory  that  fire  supported  certain  unknown  forms 
of  life. 

"I  have  long  believed,"  said  I,  "that  fire  is  in 
habited  by  living  organisms  which  require  the  ele 
ments  and  temperature  of  active  combustion  for 
their  existence — microorganisms,  but  not,"  I  added 
smilingly,  "any  higher  type  of  life." 

"In  the  fireplace,"  she  ventured  diffidently,  "I 
sometimes  see  curious  things — dragons  and  snakes 
and  creatures  of  grotesque  and  peculiar  shapes." 

I  smiled  indulgently,  charmed  by  this  innocently 
offered  contribution  to  science.  Then  she  rose,  and 
I  rose  and  took  her  hand  in  mine,  and  we  wandered 
over  the  grass  toward  the  crater,  while  I  explained 
to  her  the  difference  between  what  we  imagine  we 
see  in  the  glowing  coals  of  a  grate  fire  and  my  own 
theory  that  fire  is  the  abode  of  living  animalculae. 

On  the  grassy  edge  of  the  crater  we  paused  and 
looked  down  the  slope,  where  the  circle  of  steam 
rose,  partly  veiling  the  pale  flash  of  fire  underneath. 

"How  near  can  we  go?"  I  inquired. 

"Quite  near.    Come;  I'll  guide  you." 

Leading  me  by  the  hand,  she  stepped  over  the 

230 


Un  Pen  d' Amour 


brink  and  we  began  to  descend  the  easy  grass  slope 
together. 

There  was  no  difficulty  about  it  at  all.  Down 
we  went,  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  wall  of  steam, 
until  at  last,  when  but  fifteen  feet  away  from  it,  I 
felt  the  heat  from  the  flames  which  sparkled  below 
the  wall  of  vapour. 

Here  we  seated  ourselves  upon  the  grass,  and  I 
knitted  my  brows  and  fixed  my  eyes  upon  this  cu 
rious  phenomenon,  striving  to  discover  some  rea 
son  for  it. 

Except  for  the  vapour  and  the  fires,  there  was 
nothing  whatever  volcanic  about  this  spectacle,  or 
in  the  surroundings. 

From  where  I  sat  I  could  see  that  the  bed  of  fire 
which  encircled  the  crater,  and  the  wall  of  vapour 
which  crowned  the  flames,  were  about  three  hun 
dred  feet  wide.  Of  course  this  barrier  was  abso 
lutely  impassable.  There  was  no  way  of  getting 
through  it  into  the  bottom  of  the  crater. 

A  slight  pressure  from  Miss  Blythe's  fingers  en 
gaged  my  attention;  I  turned  toward  her,  and  she 
said: 

"There  is  one  more  thing  about  which  I  have  not 

231 


Police!  !  ! 


told  you.  I  feel  a  little  guilty,  because  that  is  the 
real  reason  I  asked  you  to  come  here." 

"What  is  it?" 

"I  think  there  are  emeralds  on  the  floor  of  that 
crater." 

"Emeralds!" 

"I  think  so."  She  felt  in  the  ruffled  pocket  of 
her  apron,  drew  out  a  fragment  of  mineral,  and 
passed  it  to  me. 

I  screwed  a  jeweler's  glass  into  my  eye  and  ex 
amined  it  in  astonished  silence.  It  was  an  emerald ; 
a  fine,  large,  immensely  valuable  stone,  if  my  expe 
rience  counted  for  anything.  One  side  of  it  was 
thickly  coated  with  vermilion  paint. 

"Where  did  this  come  from?"  I  asked  in  an  agi 
tated  voice. 

"From  the  floor  of  the  crater.  Is  it  really  an 
emerald?" 

I  lifted  my  head  and  stared  at  the  girl  incredu 
lously. 

"It  happened  this  way,"  she  said  excitedly. 
"Father  was  painting  a  picture  up  there  by  the  edge 
of  the  crater.  He  left  his  palette  on  the  grass  to 
go  to  the  bungalow  for  some  more  tubes  of  colour. 

232 


Un  Pen  d' Amour 


While  he  was  in  the  house,  hunting  for  the  colours 
which  he  wanted,  I  stepped  out  on  the  veranda,  and 
I  saw  some  crows  alight  near  the  palette  and  begin 
to  stalk  about  in  the  grass.  One  bird  walked  right 
over  his  wet  palette;  I  stepped  out  and  waved  my 
sun-bonnet  to  frighten  him  off,  but  he  had  both 
feet  in  a  sticky  mass  of  Chinese  vermilion,  and 
for  a  moment  was  unable  to  free  himself. 

"I  almost  caught  him,  but  he  flapped  away  over 
the  edge  of  the  crater,  high  above  the  wall  of  va 
pour,  sailed  down  onto  the  crater  floor,  and 
alighted. 

"But  his  feet  bothered  him;  he  kept  hopping 
about  on  the  bottom  of  the  crater,  half  running, 
half  flying;  and  finally  he  took  wing  and  rose  up 
over  the  hill. 

"As  he  flew  above  me,  and  while  I  was  looking 
up  at  his  vermilion  feet,  something  dropped  from 
his  claws  and  nearly  struck  me.  It  was  that 
emerald." 

When  I  had  recovered  sufficient  composure  to 
speak  steadily,  I  took  her  beautiful  little  hand  in 
mine. 

"This,"  said  I,  "is  the  most  exciting  locality  I 

233 


Police!  !  ! 


have  ever  visited  for  purposes  of  scientific  research. 
Within  this  crater  may  lie  millions  of  value  in 
emeralds.  You  are  probably,  today,  the  wealth 
iest  heiress  upon  the  face  of  the  globe!" 

I  gave  her  a  winning  glance.  She  smiled,  shyly, 
and  blushingly  withdrew  her  hand. 

For  several  exquisite  minutes  I  sat  there  beside 
her  in  a  sort  of  heavenly  trance.  How  beautiful 
she  was!  How  engaging — how  sweet — how  mod 
estly  appreciative  of  the  man  beside  her,  who  had 
little  beside  his  scientific  learning,  his  fame,  and  a 
kind  heart  to  appeal  to  such  youth  and  loveliness  as 
hers ! 

There  was  something  about  her  that  delicately 
appealed  to  me.  Sometimes  I  pondered  what  this 
might  be;  sometimes  I  wondered  how  many 
emeralds  lay  on  that  floor  of  sandy  gravel  below 
us. 

Yes,  I  loved  her.  I  realised  it  now.  I  could  even 
endure  her  father  for  her  sake.  I  should  make  a 
good  husband.  I  was  quite  certain  of  that. 

I  turned  and  gazed  upon  her,  meltingly.  But  I 
did  not  wish  to  startle  her,  so  I  remained  silent, 
permitting  the  chaste  language  of  my  eyes  to  inter- 

234 


Un  Peu  d' Amour 


pret  for  her  what  my  lips  had  not  yet  murmured. 
It  was  a  brief  but  beautiful  moment  in  my  life. 

"The  way  to  do,"  said  I,  "is  to  trap  several  dozen 
crows,  smear  their  feet  with  glue,  tie  a  ball  of 
Indian  twine  to  the  ankle  of  every  bird,  then 
liberate  them.  Some  are  certain  to  fly  into  the 
crater  and  try  to  scrape  the  glue  off  in  the  sand. 
Then/'  I  added,  triumphantly,  "all  we  have  to  do 
is  to  haul  in  our  birds  and  detach  the  wealth  of 
Midas  from  their  sticky  claws !" 

"That  is  an  excellent  suggestion,"  she  said  grate 
fully,  "but  I  can  do  that  after  you  have  gone.  All 
I  wanted  you  to  tell  me  was  whether  the  stone  is  a 
genuine  emerald." 

I  gazed  at  her  blankly. 

"You  are  here  for  purposes  of  scientific  investi 
gation,"  she  added,  sweetly.  "I  should  not  think  of 
taking  your  time  for  the  mere  sake  of  accumulating 
wealth  for  my  father  and  me." 

There  didn't  seem  to  be  anything  for  me  to  say 
at  that  moment.  Chilled,  I  gazed  at  the  flashing 
ring  of  fire. 

And,  as  I  gazed,  suddenly  I  became  aware  of  a 
little,  pointed  muzzle,  two  pricked-up  ears,  and  two 

235 


Police!  !! 


ruby-red  eyes  gazing  intently  out  at  me  from  the 
mass  of  flames. 

The  girl  beside  me  saw  it,  too. 

"Don't  move!"  she  whispered.  'That  is  one  of 
the  flame  creatures.  It  may  venture  out  if  you 
keep  perfectly  still." 

Rigid  with  amazement,  I  sat  like  a  stone  image, 
staring  at  the  most  astonishing  sight  I  had  ever  be 
held. 

For  several  minutes  the  ferret-like  creature  never 
stirred  from  where  it  crouched  in  the  crater  fire; 
the  alert  head  remained  pointed  toward  us ;  I  could 
even  see  that  its  thick  fur  must  have  possessed  the 
qualities  of  asbestos,  because  here  and  there  a  hair 
or  two  glimmered  incandescent;  and  its  eyes,  nose, 
and  whiskers  glowed  and  glowed  as  the  flames  pul 
sated  around  it. 

After  a  long  while  it  began  to  move  out  of  the 
fire,  slowly,  cautiously,  cunning  eyes  fixed  on  us — a 
small,  slim,  wiry,  weasel-like  creature  on  which  the 
sunlight  fell  with  a  vitreous  glitter  as  it  crept  for 
ward  into  the  grass. 

Then,  from  the  fire  behind,  another  creature  of 
the  same  sort  appeared,  another,  others,  then  dozens 

236 


Un  Peu  d'Amour 


of  eager,  lithe,  little  animals  appeared  everywhere 
from  the  flames  and  began  to  frisk  and  play 
and  run  about  in  the  grass  and  nibble  the  fresh, 
green,  succulent  herbage  with  a  snipping  sound 
quite  audible  to  us. 

One  came  so  near  my  feet  that  I  could  examine 
it  minutely. 

Its  fur  and  whiskers  seemed  heavy  and  dense 
and  like  asbestos  fibre,  yet  so  fine  as  to  appear  silky, 
ilts  eyes,  nose,  and  claws  were  scarlet,  and  seemed 
to  possess  a  glassy  surface. 

I  waited  my  opportunity,  and  when  the  little 
thing  came  nosing  along  within  reach,  I  seized  it. 

Instantly  it  emitted  a  bewildering  series  of 
whistling  shrieks,  and  twisted  around  to  bite  me. 
Its  body  was  icy. 

"Don't  let  it  bite!"  cried  the  girl.  "Be  careful, 
Mr.  Smith!" 

But  its  jaws  were  toothless;  only  soft,  cold  gums 
pinched  me,  and  I  held  it  twisting  and  writhing, 
while  the  icy  temperature  of  its  body  began  to  be 
numb  my  fingers  and  creep  up  my  wrist,  paralyzing 
my  arm;  and  its  incessant  and  piercing  shrieks 
deafened  me. 

17  237 


Police!  !  ! 


In  vain  I  transferred  it  to  the  other  hand,  and 
then  passed  it  from  one  hand  to  the  other,  as  one 
shifts  a  lump  of  ice  or  a  hot  potato,  in  an  attempt 
to  endure  the  temperature :  it  shrieked  and  squirmed 
and  doubled,  and  finally  wriggled  out  of  my  stiff 
ened  and  useless  hands,  and  scuttled  away  into  the 
fire. 

It  was  an  overwhelming  disappointment.  For  a 
moment  it  seemed  unendurable. 

"Never  mind,"  I  said,  huskily,  "if  I  caught  one 
in  my  hands,  I  can  surely  catch  another  in  a  trap." 

"I  am  so  sorry  for  your  disappointment,"  she 
said,  pitifully. 

"Do  you  care,  Miss  Blythe?"     I  asked. 

She  blushed. 

"Of  course  I  care,"  she  murmured. 

My  hands  were  too  badly  frost-nipped  to  become 
eloquent.  I  merely  sighed  and  thrust  them  into  my 
pockets.  Even  my  arm  was  too  stiff  to  encircle  her 
shapeful  waist.  Devotion  to  Science  had  temporarily 
crippled  me.  Love  must  wait.  But,  as  we  ascended 
the  grassy  slope  together,  I  promised  myself  that 
I  would  make  her  a  good  husband,  and  that  I 
should  spend  at  least  part  of  every  day  of  my  life 

238 


-•:-£>••? 

/r  j;  i 


Don't  let  it  bite!'  cried  the  girl.     'Be  careful,  Mr.  Smith! 


Un  Pen  d' Amour 


in  trapping  crows  and  smearing  their  claws  with 
glue. 

That  evening  I  was  seated  on  the  veranda  beside 
Wilna — Miss  Blythe's  name  was  Wilna — and  what 
with  gazing  at  her  and  fitting  together  some  of  the 
folding  box-traps  which  I  always  carried  with  me 
— and  what  with  trying  to  realise  the  pecuniary 
magnificence  of  our  future  existence  together,  I 
was  exceedingly  busy  when  Blythe  came  in  to  dis 
play,  as  I  supposed,  his  most  recent  daub  to  me. 

The  canvas  he  carried  presented  a  series  of  crim 
son  speckles,  out  of  which  burst  an  eruption  of 
green  streaks — and  it  made  me  think  of  stepping  on 
a  caterpillar. 

My  instinct  was  to  placate  this  impossible  man. 
He  was  her  father.  I  meant  to  honour  him  if  I  had 
to  assault  him  to  do  it. 

"Supremely  satisfying!"  I  nodded,  chary  of  nam 
ing  the  subject.  "It  is  a  stride  beyond  the  art  of 
the  future:  it  is  a  flying  leap  out  of  the  Not  Yet 
into  the  Possibly  Perhaps!  I  thank  you  for  en 
lightening  me,  Mr.  Blythe.  I  am  your  debtor." 

He  fairly  snarled  at  me: 

"What  are  you  talking  about!"  he  demanded. 

239 


Police!  !  ! 


I  remained  modestly  mute. 

To  Wilna  he  said,  pointing  passionately  at  his 
canvas : 

"The  crows  have  been  walking  all  over  it  again ! 
I'm  going  to  paint  in  the  woods  after  this,  earth 
quakes  or  no  earthquakes.  Have  the  trees  been 
heaved  up  anywhere  recently  ?" 

"Not  since  last  week,"  she  said,  soothingly.  "It 
usually  happens  after  a  rain." 

"I  think  I'll  risk  it  then — although  it  did  rain 
early  this  morning.  I'll  do  a  moonlight  down  there 
this  evening."  And,  turning  to  me:  "If  you  know 
as  much  about  science  as  you  do  about  art  you 
won't  have  to  remain  here  long — I  trust." 

"What?"  said  I,  very  red. 

He  laughed  a  highly  disagreeable  laugh,  and 
marched  into  the  house.  Presently  he  bawled  for 
dinner,  and  Wilna  went  away.  For  her  sake  I  had 
remained  calm  and  dignified,  but  presently  I  went 
out  and  kicked  up  the  turf  two  or  three  times ;  and, 
having  foozled  my  wrath,  I  went  back  to  dinner, 
realising  that  I  might  as  well  begin  to  accustom 
myself  to  my  future  father-in-law. 

It  seemed  that  he  had  a  mania  for  prunes,  and 

240 


Un  Pen  d' Amour 


that's  all  he  permitted  anybody  to  have  for  dinner. 

Disgusted,  I  attempted  to  swallow  the  loathly 
stewed  fruit,  watching  Blythe  askance  as  he  hur 
riedly  stuffed  himself,  using  a  tablespoon,  with 
every  symptom  of  relish. 

"Now,"  he  cried,  shoving  back  his  chair,  "I'm 
going  to  paint  a  moonlight  by  moonlight.  Wilna, 
if  Billy  arrives,  make  him  comfortable,  and  tell 
him  I'll  return  by  midnight."  And  without  taking 
the  trouble  to  notice  me  at  all,  he  strode  away  to 
ward  the  veranda,  chewing  vigorously  upon  his  last 
prune. 

"Your  father/'  said  I,  "is  eccentric.  Genius  usu 
ally  is.  But  he  is  a  most  interesting  and  estimable 
man.  I  revere  him." 

"It  is  kind  of  you  to  say  so,"  said  the  girl,  in  a 
low  voice. 

I  thought  deeply  for  a  few  moments,  then : 

"Who  is  'Billy?'  "  I  inquired,  casually. 

I  couldn't  tell  whether  it  was  a  sudden  gleam  of 
sunset  light  on  her  face,  or  whether  she  blushed. 

"Billy,"  she  said  softly,  "is  a  friend  of  father's. 
His  name  is  William  Green." 

"Oh." 

241 


Police!  !  ! 


"He  is  coming  out  here  to  visit — father — I  be 
lieve." 

"Oh.    An  artist;  and  doubtless  of  mature  years." 

"He  is  a  mineralogist  by  profession,"  she  said, 
" — and  somewhat  young." 

"Oh." 

"Twenty-four  years  old,"  she  added.  Upon  her 
pretty  face  was  an  absent  expression,  vaguely  pleas 
ant.  Her  blue  eyes  became  dreamy  and  exquisitely 
remote. 

I  pondered  deeply  for  a  while : 

"Wilna?"  I  said. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Smith?"  as  though  aroused  from 
agreeable  meditation. 

But  I  didn't  know  exactly  what  to  say,  and  I  re 
mained  uneasily  silent,  thinking  about  that  man 
Green  and  his  twenty-four  years,  and  his  profes 
sion,  and  the  bottom  of  the  crater,  and  Wilna — and 
striving  to  satisfy  myself  that  there  was  no  logical 
connection  between  any  of  these. 

"I  think,"  said  I,  "that  I'll  take  a  bucket  of  salad 
to  your  father." 

Why  I  should  have  so  suddenly  determined  to 
ingratiate  myself  with  the  old  grouch  I  scarcely  un- 

242 


Un  Pen  d' Amour 


derstood:  for  the  construction  of  a  salad  was  my 
very  best  accomplishment. 

Wilna  looked  at  me  in  a  peculiar  manner,  almost 
as  though  she  were  controlling  a  sudden  and  not 
unpleasant  inward  desire  to  laugh. 

Evidently  the  finer  and  more  delicate  instincts  of 
a  woman  were  divining  my  motive  and  sympathiz 
ing  with  my  mental  and  sentimental  perplexity. 

So  when  she  said :  "I  don't  think  you  had  better 
go  near  my  father,"  I  was  convinced  of  her  gentle 
solicitude  in  my  behalf. 

"With  a  bucket  of  salad,"  I  whispered  softly, 
"much  may  be  accomplished,  Wilna."  And  I  took 
her  little  hand  and  pressed  it  gently  and  respect 
fully.  "Trust  all  to  me,"  I  murmured. 

She  stood  with  her  head  turned  away  from  me, 
her  slim  hand  resting  limply  in  mine.  From  the 
slight  tremor  of  her  shoulders  I  became  aware  how 
deeply  her  emotion  was  now  swaying  her.  Evi 
dently  she  was  nearly  ready  to  become  mine. 

But  I  remained  calm  and  alert.  The  time  was 
not  yet.  Her  father  had  had  his  prunes,  in  which 
he  delighted.  And  when  pleasantly  approached 
with  a  bucket  of  salad  he  could  not  listen  other- 

243 


Police!  !  ! 


wise  than  politely  to  what  I  had  to  say  to  him. 
Quick  action  was  necessary — quick  but  diplomatic 
action — in  view  of  the  imminence  of  this  young 
man  Green,  who  evidently  was  persona  grata  at  the 
bungalow  of  this  irritable  old  dodo. 

Tenderly  pressing  the  pretty  hand  which  I  held, 
and  saluting  the  finger-tips  with  a  gesture  which 
was,  perhaps,  not  wholly  ungraceful,  I  stepped  into 
the  kitchen,  washed  out  several  heads  of  lettuce, 
deftly  chopped  up  some  youthful  onions,  con 
structed  a  seductive  French  dressing,  and,  stirring 
together  the  crisp  ingredients,  set  the  savoury  mas 
terpiece  away  in  the  ice-box,  after  tasting  it.  It 
was  delicious  enough  to  draw  sobs  from  any  pig. 

When  I  went  out  to  the  veranda,  Wilna  had  dis 
appeared.  So  I  unfolded  and  set  up  some  more 
box-traps,  determined  to  lose  no  time. 

Sunset  still  lingered  beyond  the  chain  of  western 
mountains  as  I  went  out  across  the  grassy  plateau 
to  the  cornfield. 

Here  I  set  and  baited  several  dozen  aluminium 
crow-traps,  padding  the  jaws  so  that  no  injury 
could  be  done  to  the  birds  when  the  springs  snapped 
on  their  legs. 

244 


Un  Pen  d' Amour 


Then  I  went  over  to  the  crater  and  descended  its 
gentle,  grassy  slope.  And  there,  all  along  the 
borders  of  the  vapoury  wall,  I  set  box-traps  for  the 
lithe  little  denizens  of  the  fire,  baiting  every  trap 
with  a  handful  of  fresh,  sweet  clover  which  I  had 
pulled  up  from  the  pasture  beyond  the  cornfield. 

My  task  ended,  I  ascended  the  slope  again,  and 
for  a  while  stood  there  immersed  in  pleasurable 
premonitions. 

Everything  had  been  accomplished  swiftly  and 
methodically  within  the  few  hours  in  which  I  had 
first  set  eyes  upon  this  extraordinary  place — every 
thing! — love  at  first  sight,  the  delightfully  light 
ning-like  wooing  and  winning  of  an  incomparable 
maiden  and  heiress;  the  discovery  of  the  fire  crea 
tures;  the  solving  of  the  emerald  problem. 

And  now  everything  was  ready,  crow-traps,  fire- 
traps,  a  bucket  of  irresistible  salad  for  Blythe,  a 
modest  and  tremulous  avowal  for  Wilna  as  soon  as 
her  father  tasted  the  salad  and  I  had  pleasantly 
notified  him  of  my  intentions  concerning  his  lovely 
offspring. 

Daylight  faded  from  rose  to  lilac;  already  the 
mountains  were  growing  fairy-like  under  that 

245 


Police!  !  ! 


vague,  diffuse  lustre  which  heralds  the  rise  of  the 
full  moon.  It  rose,  enormous,  yellow,  unreal,  be 
coming  imperceptibly  silvery  as  it  climbed  the  sky 
and  hung  aloft  like  a  stupendous  arc-light  flooding 
the  world  with  a  radiance  so  white  and  clear  that  I 
could  very  easily  have  written  verses  by  it,  if  I 
wrote  verses. 

Down  on  the  edge  of  the  forest  I  could  see 
Blythe  on  his  camp-stool,  madly  besmearing  his 
moonlit  canvas,  but  I  could  not  see  Wilna  any 
where.  Maybe  she  had  shyly  retired  somewhere 
by  herself  to  think  of  me. 

So  I  went  back  to  the  house,  filled  a  bucket  with 
my  salad,  and  started  toward  the  edge  of  the  woods, 
singing  happily  as  I  sped  on  feet  so  light  and  frolic 
some  that  they  seemed  to  skim  the  ground.  How 
wonderful  is  the  power  of  love ! 

When  I  approached  Blythe  he  heard  me  coming 
and  turned  around. 

"What  the  devil  do  you  want?"  he  asked  with 
characteristic  civility. 

"I  have  brought  you,"  said  I  gaily,  "a  bucket  of 
salad." 

"I  don't  want  any  salad !" 

246 


Un  Pen  d' Amour 


"W-what?" 

"I  never  eat  it  at  night.'* 

I  said  confidently: 

"Mr.  Ely  the,  if  you  will  taste  this  salad  I  am 
sure  you  will  not  regret  it."  And  with  hideous 
cunning  I  set  the  bucket  beside  him  on  the  grass 
and  seated  myself  near  it.  The  old  dodo  grunted 
and  continued  to  daub  the  canvas ;  but  presently,  as 
though  forgetfully,  and  from  sheer  instinct,  he 
reached  down  into  the  bucket,  pulled  out  a  leaf  of 
lettuce,  and  shoved  it  into  his  mouth. 

My  heart  leaped  exultantly.    I  had  him ! 

"Mr.  Blythe,"  I  began  in  a  winningly  modulated 
voice,  and,  at  the  same  instant,  he  sprang  from  his 
camp-chair,  his  face  distorted. 

"There  are  onions  in  this  salad!"  he  yelled. 
"What  the  devil  do  you  mean !  Are  you  trying  to 
poison  me !  What  are  you  following  me  about  for, 
anyway?  Why  are  you  running  about  under  foot 
every  minute!" 

"My  dear  Mr.  Blythe,"  I  protested— but  he 
barked  at  me,  kicked  over  the  bucket  of  salad,  and 
began  to  dance  with  rage. 

"What's    the    matter    with    you,    anyway!"    he 

247 


"Kicked  over  the  bucket  of  salad,  and  began  to  dance 
with  rage." 


Vn  Pen  d*  Amour 


bawled.  "Why  are  you  trying  to  feed  me?  What 
do  you  mean  by  trying  to  be  attentive  to  me !" 

"I — I  admire  and  revere  you " 

"No  you  don't !"  he  shouted.  "I  don't  want  you 
to  admire  me!  I  don't  desire  to  be  revered!  I 
don't  like  attention  and  politeness!  Do  you  hear! 
It's  artificial — out  of  date — ridiculous!  The  only 
thing  that  recommends  a  man  to  me  is  his  bad  man 
ners,  bad  temper,  and  violent  habits.  There's  some 
meaning  to  such  a  man,  none  at  all  to  men  like 
you!" 

He  ran  at  the  salad  bucket  and  kicked  it  again. 

"They  all  fawned  on  me  in  Boston!"  he  panted. 
"They  ran  about  under  foot !  They  bought  my  pic 
tures!  And  they  made  me  sick!  I  came  out  here 
to  be  rid  of  'em!" 

I  rose  from  the  grass,  pale  and  determined. 

"You  listen  to  me,  you  old  grouch!"  I  hissed. 
"I'll  go.  But  before  I  go  I'll  tell  you  why  I've 
been  civil  to  you.  There's  only  one  reason  in  the 
world:  I  want  to  marry  your  daughter!  And  I'm 
going  to  do  it!" 

I  stepped  nearer  him,  menacing  him  with  out 
stretched  hand : 

249 


Police!  !  ! 


"As  for  you,  you  pitiable  old  dodo,  with  your 
bad  manners  and  your  worse  pictures,  and  your 
degraded  mania  for  prunes,  you  are  a  necessary 
evil  that's  all,  and  I  haven't  the  slightest  respect  for 
either  you  or  your  art !" 

"Is  that  true  ?"  he  said  in  an  altered  voice. 

"True?"  I  laughed  bitterly.  "Of  course  it's  true, 
you  miserable  dauber!" 

"D-dauber !"  he  stammered. 

"Certainly!  I  said  'dauber,'  and  I  mean  it. 
Why,  your  work  would  shame  the  pictures  on  a 
child's  slate!" 

"Smith,"  he  said  unsteadily,  "I  believe  I  have 
utterly  misjudged  you.  I  believe  you  are  a  good 
deal  of  a  man,  after  all " 

"I'm  man  enough,"  said  I,  fiercely,  "to  go  back, 
saddle  my  mule,  kidnap  your  daughter,  and  start 
for  home.  And  I'm  going  to  do  it !" 

"Wait!"  he  cried.  "I  don't  want  you  to  go.  If 
you'll  remain  I'll  be  very  glad.  I'll  do  anything 
you  like.  I'll  quarrel  with  you,  and  you  can  insult 
my  pictures.  It  will  agreeably  stimulate  us  both. 
Don't  go,  Smith " 

"If  I  stay,  may  I  marry  Wilna?" 

250 


Un  Pen  d' Amour 


"If  you  ask  me  I  won't  let  you!" 

"Very  well!"  I  retorted,  angrily.  "Then  I'll 
marry  her  anyway !" 

"That's  the  way  to  talk !  Don't  go,  Smith.  I'm 
really  beginning  to  like  you.  And  when  Billy  Green 
arrives  you  and  he  will  have  a  delightfully  violent 
scene " 

"What!" 

He  rubbed  his  hands  gleefully. 

"He's  in  love  with  Wilna.  You  and  he  won't  get 
on.  It  is  going  to  be  very  stimulating  for  me — I 
can  see  that !  You  and  he  are  going  to  behave  most 
disagreeably  to  each  other.  And  I  shall  be  exceed 
ingly  unpleasant  to  you  both !  Come,  Smith,  promise 
me  that  you'll  stay !" 

Profoundly  worried,  I  stood  staring  at  him  in  the 
moonlight,  gnawing  my  mustache. 

"Very  well,"  I  said,  "I'll  remain  if " 

Something  checked  me,  I  did  not  quite  know  what 
for  a  moment.  Blythe,  too,  was  staring  at  me  in  an 
odd,  apprehensive  way.  Suddenly  I  realised  that 
under  my  feet  the  ground  was  stirring. 

"Look  out!"  I  cried;  but  speech  froze  on  my  lips 
as  beneath  me  the  solid  earth  began  to  rock  and 

251 


Police!  !  ! 


crack  and  billow  up  into  a  high,  crumbling  ridge, 
moving  continually,  as  the  sod  cracks,  heaves  up, 
and  crumbles  above  the  subterranean  progress  of  a 
mole. 

Up  into  the  air  we  were  slowly  pushed  on  the  ever 
growing  ridge ;  and  with  us  were  carried  rocks  and 
bushes  and  sod,  and  even  forest  trees. 

I  could  hear  their  tap-roots  part  with  pistol-like 
reports ;  see  great  pines  and  hemlocks  and  oaks  mov 
ing,  slanting,  settling,  tilting  crazily  in  every  direc 
tion  as  they  were  heaved  upward  in  this  gigantic  dis 
turbance. 

Blythe  caught  me  by  the  arm;  we  clutched  each 
other,  balancing  on  the  crest  of  the  steadily  rising 
mound. 

"W-what  is  it ?"  he  stammered.  "Look!  It's  cir 
cular.  The  \voods  are  rising  in  a  huge  circle. 
What's  happening?  Do  you  know?" 

Over  me  crept  a  horrible  certainty  that  something 
living  was  moving  under  us  through  the  depths  of 
the  earth — something  that,  as  it  progressed,  was 
heaping  up  the  surface  of  the  world  above  its  unseen 
and  burrowing  course — something  dreadful,  enor 
mous,  sinister,  and  alive! 

252 


18 


It's  a  worm!'  shrieked  Blythe." 


Police!  !  ! 


"Look  out!"  screamed  Blythe;  and  at  the  same 
instant  the  crumbling  summit  of  the  ridge  opened 
under  our  feet  and  a  fissure  hundreds  of  yards  long 
yawned  ahead  of  us. 

And  along  it,  shining  slimily  in  the  moonlight,  a 
vast,  viscous,  ringed  surface  was  moving,  retract 
ing,  undulating,  elongating,  writhing,  squirming, 
shuddering. 

"It's  a  worm!"  shrieked  Blythe.  "Oh,  God!  It's 
a  mile  long !" 

As  in  a  nightmare  we  clutched  each  other,  strug 
gling  frantically  to  avoid  the  fissure;  but  the  soft 
earth  slid  and  gave  way  under  us,  and  we  fell  heav 
ily  upon  that  ghastly,  living  surface. 

Instantly  a  violent  convulsion  hurled  us  upward ; 
we  fell  on  it  again,  rebounding  from  the  rubbery 
thing,  strove  to  regain  our  feet  and  scramble  up 
the  edges  of  the  fissure,  strove  madly  while  the  mam 
moth  worm  slid  more  rapidly  through  the  rocking 
forests,  carrying  us  forward  with  a  speed  in 
creasing. 

Through  the  forest  we  tore,  reeling  about  on  the 
slippery  back  of  the  thing,  as  though  riding  on  a 
plowshare,  while  trees  clashed  and  tilted  and  fell 

254 


Un  Pen  d' Amour 


from  the  enormous  furrow  on  every  side ;  then,  sud 
denly  out  of  the  woods  into  the  moonlight,  far  ahead 
of  us  we  could  see  the  grassy  upland  heave  up,  cake, 
break,  and  crumble  above  the  burrowing  course  of 
the  monster. 

"It's  making  for  the  crater!"  gasped  Blythe;  and 
horror  spurred  us  on,  and  we  scrambled  and  slipped 
and  clawed  the  billowing  sides  of  the  furrow  until 
we  gained  the  heaving  top  of  it. 

As  one  runs  in  a  bad  dream,  heavily,  half-para 
lyzed,  so  ran  Blythe  and  I,  toiling  over  the  undulat 
ing,  tumbling  upheaval  until,  half-fainting,  we  fell 
and  rolled  down  the  shifting  slope  onto  solid  and 
unvexed  sod  on  the  very  edges  of  the  crater. 

Below  us  we  saw,  with  sickened  eyes,  the  entire 
circumference  of  the  crater  agitated,  saw  it  rise  and 
fall  as  avalanches  of  rock  and  earth  slid  into  it,  tons 
and  thousands  of  tons  rushing  down  the  slope,  blot 
ting  from  our  sight  the  flickering  ring  of  flame,  and 
extinguishing  the  last  filmy  jet  of  vapour. 

Suddenly  the  entire  crater  caved  in  and  filled  up 
under  my  anguished  eyes,  quenching  for  all  eternity 
the  vapour  wall,  the  fire,  and  burying  the  little  deni 
zens  of  the  flames,  and  perhaps  a  billion  dollars' 

255 


Police!  1 1 


worth  of  emeralds  under  as  many  billion  tons  of 
earth. 

Quieter  and  quieter  grew  the  earth  as  the  gigantic 
worm  bored  straight  down  into  depths  immeasur 
able.  And  at  last  the  moon  shone  upon  a  world  that 
lay  without  a  tremor  in  its  milky  lustre. 

"I  shall  name  it  Verma  gigantica,"  said  I,  with  a 
hysterical  sob;  "but  nobody  will  ever  believe  me 
when  I  tell  this  story !" 

Still  terribly  shaken,  we  turned  toward  the  house. 
And,  as  we  approached  the  lamplit  veranda,  I  saw  a 
horse  standing  there  and  a  young  man  hastily  dis 
mounting. 

And  then  a  terrible  thing  occurred ;  for,  before  I 
could  even  shriek,  Wilna  had  put  both  arms  around 
that  young  man's  neck,  and  both  of  his  arms  were 
clasping  her  waist. 

Blythe  was  kind  to  me.  He  took  me  around  the 
back  way  and  put  me  to  bed. 

And  there  I  lay  through  the  most  awful  night  I 
ever  experienced,  listening  to  the  piano  below,  where 
Wilna  and  William  Green  were  singing,  "Un  Peu 
d'Amour." 


THE   EGGS   OF  THE 
SILVER   MOON 


THE  EGGS 
OF  THE  SILVER  MOON 

IN  the  new  white  marble  Administration  Build 
ing  at  Bronx  Park,  my  private  office  separated 
the  offices  of  Dr.  Silas  Quint  and  Professor 
Boomly;  and  it  had  been  arranged  so  on  purpose, 
because  of  the  increasingly  frequent  personal  mis 
understanding  between  these  two  celebrated  ento 
mologists.     It  was  very  plain  to  me  that  a  crisis  in 
this  quarrel  was  rapidly  approaching. 

A  bitter  animosity  had  for  some  months  existed 
on  both  sides,  born  of  the  most  intense  professional 
jealousy.  They  had  been  friends  for  years.  No 
unseemly  rivalry  disturbed  this  friendship  as  long  as 
it  was  merely  a  question  of  collecting,  preparing,  and 
mounting  for  exhibition  the  vast  numbers  of  butter 
flies  and  moths  which  haunt  this  insectivorous  earth. 
Even  their  zeal  in  the  eternal  hunt  for  new  and  un- 
described  species  had  not  made  them  enemies. 

259 


Police!  !  ! 


I  am  afraid  that  my  suggestion  for  the  construc 
tion  of  a  great  glass  flying-cage  for  living  specimens 
of  moths  and  butterflies  started  the  trouble  between 
these  hitherto  godly  and  middle-aged  men.  That, 
and  the  Carnegie  Educational  Medal  were  the  causes 
which  began  this  deplorable  affair. 

Various  field  collectors,  employed  by  both  Quint 
and  Boomly,  were  always  out  all  over  the  world 
foraging  for  specimens;  also,  they  were  constantly 
returning  with  spoils  from  every  quarter  of  the 
globe. 

Now,  to  secure  rare  and  beautiful  living  speci 
mens  of  butterflies  and  moths  for  the  crystal  flying- 
cage  was  a  serious  and  delicate  job.  Such  tropical 
insects  could  not  survive  the  journey  of  several 
months  from  the  wilds  of  Australia,  India,  Asia, 
Africa,  or  the  jungles  of  South  America — nor  could 
semi-tropical  species  endure  the  captivity  of  a  few 
weeks  or  even  days,  when  captured  in  the  West 
Indies,  Mexico,  or  Florida.  Only  our  duller- 
coloured,  smaller,  and  hardier  native  species  toler 
ated  capture  and  exhibition. 

Therefore,  the  mode  of  procedure  which  I  sug 
gested  was  for  our  field  expeditions  to  obtain  males 

260 


The  Eggs  of  the  Silver  Moon 

and  females  of  the  same  species  of  butterfly  or  moth, 
mate  them,  and,  as  soon  as  any  female  deposited  her 
eggs,  place  the  tiny  pearl-like  eggs  in  cold  storage 
to  retard  their  hatching,  which  normally  occurs,  in 
the  majority  of  species,  within  ten  days  or  two 
weeks. 

This  now  was  the  usual  mode  of  procedure  fol 
lowed  by  the  field  collectors  employed  by  Dr.  Quint 
and  Professor  Boomly.  And  not  only  were  the  eggs 
of  various  butterflies  and  moths  so  packed  for  trans 
portation,  but  a  sufficient  store  of  their  various  native 
food-plants  was  also  preserved,  where  such  food- 
plants  could  not  be  procurred  in  the  United  States. 
So  when  the  eggs  arrived  at  Bronx  Park,  and  were 
hatched  there  in  due  time,  the  young  caterpillars  had 
plenty  of  nourishment  ready  for  them  in  cold  stor 
age. 

Might  I  not,  legitimately,  have  expected  the  Car 
negie  Educational  Medal  for  all  this  ?  I  have  never 
received  it.  I  say  this  without  indignation — even 
without  sorrow.  I  merely  make  the  statement. 

Yet,  my  system  was  really  a  very  beautiful  sys 
tem  ;  a  tiny  batch  of  eggs  would  arrive  from  Ceylon, 
or  Sumatra,  or  Africa;  when  taken  from  cold  stor- 

261 


Police!  !  ! 


age  and  placed  in  the  herbarium  they  would  present 
ly  hatch ;  the  caterpillars  were  fed  with  their  accus 
tomed  food-plant — a  few  leaves  being  taken  from 
cold  storage  every  day  for  them — they  would  pass 
through  their  three  or  four  moulting  periods,  cease 
feeding  in  due  time,  transform  into  the  chrysalis 
stage,  and  finally  appear  in  all  the  splendour  and 
magnificence  of  butterfly  or  moth. 

The  great  glass  flying-cage  was  now  alive  with 
superb  moths  and  butterflies,  flitting,  darting,  flutter 
ing  among  the  flowering  bushes  or  feeding  along  the 
sandy  banks  of  the  brook  which  flowed  through  the 
flying-cage,  bordered  by  thickets  of  scented  flowers. 
And  it  was  like  looking  at  a  meteoric  shower  of 
winged  jewels,  where  the  huge  metallic-blue  Mor- 
phos  from  South  America  flapped  and  sailed,  and 
the  orange  and  gold  and  green  Ornithoptera  from 
Borneo  pursued  their  majestic,  bird-like  flight — 
where  big,  glittering  Papilios  flashed  through  the 
bushes  or  alighted  nervously  to  feed  for  a  few  mo 
ments  on  jasmine  and  phlox,  and  where  the  slowly 
flopping  Heliconian*  winged  their  way  amid  the 
denser  tangles  of  tropical  vegetation. 

Nothing  like  this  flying-cage  had  ever  before  been 

262 


The  Eggs  of  the  Silver  Moon 

seen  in  New  York ;  thousands  and  thousands  of  men, 
women,  and  children  thronged  the  lawn  about  the 
flying-cage  all  day  long. 

By  night,  also,  the  effect  was  wonderful ;  the  elec 
tric  lights  among  the  foliage  broke  out;  the  great 
downy-winged  moths,  which  had  been  asleep  all  day 
while  the  butterflies  flitted  through  the  sunshine,  now 
came  out  to  display  their  crimson  or  peacock-spotted 
wings,  and  the  butterflies  folded  their  wings  and 
went  to  bed  for  the  night. 

The  public  was  enchanted,  the  authorities  of  the 
Bronx  proud  and  delighted ;  all  apparently  was  hap 
piness  and  harmony.  Except  that  nobody  offered 
me  the  Carnegie  medal. 

I  was  sitting  one  morning  in  my  office,  which,  as 
I  have  said,  separated  the  offices  of  Dr.  Quint  and 
Professor  Boomly,  when  there  came  a  loud  rapping 
on  my  door,  and,  at  my  invitation,  Dr.  Quint  bustled 
in — a  little,  meagre,  excitable,  near-sighted  man  with 
pointed  mustaches  and  a  fleck  of  an  imperial 
smudging  his  lower  lip. 

"Last  week,"  he  began  angrily,  "young  Jones  ar 
rived  from  Singapore  bringing  me  the  eggs  of 
Erebia  astarte,  the  great  Silver  Moon  butterfly.  At- 

263 


Police!  I  ! 


tempts  to  destroy  them  have  been  made.  Last  night 
I  left  them  in  a  breeding-cage  on  my  desk.  Has 
anybody  been  in  there  ?" 

"I  don't  know,"  I  said.     "What  has  happened?" 

"I  found  an  ichneumon  fly  in  the  cage  yesterday !" 
he  shouted;  "and  this  morning  the  eggs  have  either 
shrunk  to  half  their  size  or  else  the  eggs  of  another 
species  have  been  secretly  substituted  for  them  and 
the  Silver  Moon  eggs  stolen!  Has  he  been  in 
there?" 

"Who?"  I  asked,  pretending  to  misunderstand. 

"He!"  demanded  Quint  fiercely.  "If  he  has  I'll 
kill  him  some  day." 

He  meant  his  one-time  friend,  Dr.  Boomly.  Alas ! 

"For  heaven's  sake,  why  are  you  two  perpetually 
squabbling?"  I  asked  wearily.  "You  used  to  be  in 
separable  friends.  Why  can't  you  make  up?" 

"Because  I've  come  to  know  him.  That's  why! 
I  have  unmasked  this — this  Borgia — this  Machia- 
velli — this  monster  of  duplicity!  Matters  are  ap 
proaching  a  point  where  something  has  got  to  be 
done  short  of  murder.  I've  stood  all  his  envy  and 
jealousy  and  cheap  imputations  and  hints  and  con 
temptible  innuendoes  that  I'm  going  to " 

264 


The  Eggs  of  the  Silver  Moon 

He  stopped  short,  glaring  at  the  doorway,  which 
had  suddenly  been  darkened  by  the  vast  bulk  of  Pro 
fessor  Boomly — a  figure  largely  abdominal  but  ma 
jestic — like  the  massive  butt  end  of  an  elephant.  For 
the  rest,  he  had  a  rather  insignificant  and  peevish 
face  and  a  melancholy  mustache  that  usually  looked 
damp. 

"Mr.  Smith,"  he  said  to  me,  in  his  thin,  high, 
sarcastic  voice — a  voice  incongruously  at  variance 
with  his  bulk — "has  anybody  had  the  infernal  impu 
dence  to  enter  my  room  and  nose  about  my  desk?" 

"Yes,  /  have!"  replied  Quint  excitedly.  "I've 
been  in  your  room.  What  of  it?  What  about  it?" 

Boomly  permitted  his  heavy-lidded  eyes  to  rest 
on  Quint  for  a  moment,  then,  turning  to  me : 

"I  want  a  patent  lock  put  on  my  door.  Will  you 
speak  to  Professor  Farrago?" 

"I  want  one  put  on  mine,  too!"  cried  Quint.  "I 
want  a  lock  put  on  my  door  which  will  keep  envious, 
dull-minded,  mentally  broken-down,  impertiment, 
and  fat  people  out  of  my  office !" 

Boomly  flushed  heavily : 

"Fat?"  he  repeated,  glaring  at  Quint.  "Did  you 
say  'fat?'" 

265 


Police!  !  ! 


"Yes,  fat — intellectually  and  corporeally  fat!  I 
want  that  kind  of  individual  kept  out.  I  don't  trust 
them.  I'm  afraid  of  them.  Their  minds  are  atro 
phied.  They  are  unmoral,  possibly  even  criminal! 
I  don't  want  them  in  my  room  snooping  about  to  see 
what  I  have  and  what  I'm  doing.  I  don't  want  them 
to  sneak  in,  eaten  up  with  jealousy  and  envy,  and 
try  to  damage  the  eggs  of  the  Silver  Moon  butter 
fly  because  the  honour  and  glory  of  hatching  them 
would  probably  procure  for  me  the  Carnegie  Educa 
tional  Medal " 

"Why,  you  little,  dried-up,  protoplasmic  atom!" 
burst  out  Boomly,  his  face  suffused  with  passion, 
"Are  you  insinuating  that  I  have  any  designs  on 
your  batch  of  eggs?" 

"It's  my  belief,"  shouted  Quint,  "that  you  want 
that  medal  yourself,  and  that  you  put  an  ichneumon 
fly  in  my  breeding-cage  in  hopes  it- would  sting  the 
eggs  of  the  Silver  Moon." 

"If  you  found  an  ichneumon  fly  there/'  retorted 
Boomly,  "you  probably  hatched  it  in  mistake  for  a 
butterfly!"  And  he  burst  into  a  peal  of  contemptu 
ous  laughter,  but  his  little,  pig-like  eyes  under  the 
heavy  lids  were  furious. 

266 


The  Eggs  of  the  Silver  Moon 

"I  now  believe,"  said  Quint,  trembling  with  rage, 
"that  you  have  criminally  substituted  a  batch  of 
common  Plexippus  eggs  for  the  Silver  Moon  eggs 
I  had  in  my  breeding-cage !  I  believe  you  are  suffi 
ciently  abandoned  to  do  it !" 

"Ha!  Ha!"  retorted  Boomly  scornfully.  "I  don't 
believe  you  ever  had  anything  in  your  breeding-cage 
except  a  few  clothes  moths  and  cockroaches !" 

Quint  began  to  dance: 

"You  did  take  them!"  he  yelled;  "and  you  left 
me  a  bunch  of  milkweed  butterflies'  eggs !  Give  me 
my  eggs  or  I  shall  violently  assault  you!" 

"Assault  your  grandmother!"  remarked  Boomly, 
with  unscientific  brevity  "What  do  you  suppose  I 
want  of  your  ridiculous  eggs?  Haven't  I  enough 
eggs  of  Heliconius  salome  hatching  to  give  me  the 
Carnegie  medal  if  I  want  it?" 

"The  Silver  Moon  eggs  are  unique !"  cried  Quint. 
"You  know  it!  You  know  that  if  they  hatch, 
pupate,  and  become  perfect  insects  that  I  shall  cer 
tainly  be  awarded " 

"You'll  be  awarded  the  Matteawan  medal,"  re 
marked  Boomly  with  venom. 

Quint  ran  at  him  with  a  half-suppressed  howl,  his 

267 


Police!  !  ! 


momentum  carrying  him  halfway  up  Professor 
Boomly's  person.  Then,  losing  foothold,  he  fell  to 
the  floor  and  began  to  kick  in  the  general  direction 
of  Professor  Boomly.  It  was  a  sorrowful  sight 
to  see  these  two  celebrated  scientists  panting,  maul 
ing,  scuffling  and  punching  each  other  around  the 
room,  tables  and  chairs  and  scrapbaskets  flying  in 
every  direction,  and  I  mounted  on  the  window-sill 
horrified,  speechless,  trying  to  keep  clear  of  the 
revolving  storm  centre. 

"Where  are  my  Silver  Moon  eggs !"  screamed  Dr. 
Quint.  "Where  are  my  eggs  that  Jones  brought  me 
from  Singapore — you  entomological  robber !  You've 
got  'em  somewhere!  If  you  don't  give  'em  up  I'll 
find  means  to  destroy  you !" 

"You  insignificant  pair  of  maxillary  palpi!"  bel 
lowed  Professor  Boomly,  galloping  after  Dr.  Quint 
as  he  dodged  around  my  desk.  "I'll  pull  off  those 
antennae  you  call  whiskers  if  I  can  get  hold  of 
em " 

Dr.  Quint's  threatened  mustaches  bristled  as  he 
fled  before  the  elephantine  charge  of  Professor 
Boomly — once  again  around  my  desk,  then  out  into 
the  hall,  where  I  heard  the  door  of  his  office  slam, 

268 


The  Eggs  of  the  Silver  Moon 

and  Boomly,  gasping,  panting,  breathing  vengeance 
outside,  and  vowing  to  leave  Quint  quite  whisker- 
less  when  he  caught  him. 

It  was  a  painful  scene  for  scientists  to  figure  in 
or  to  gaze  upon.  Profoundly  shocked  and  upset,  I 
locked  up  the  anthropological  department  offices  and 
went  out  into  the  Park,  where  the  sun  was  shining 
and  a  gentle  June  wind  stirred  the  trees. 

Too  completely  upset  to  do  any  more  work  that 
day,  I  wandered  about  amid  the  gaily  dressed 
crowds  at  hazard;  sometimes  I  contemplated  the 
monkeys;  sometimes  gazed  sadly  upon  the  seals. 
They  dashed  and  splashed  and  raced  round  and 
round  their  tank,  or  crawled  up  on  the  rocks,  craned 
their  wet,  sleek  necks,  and  barked — houp!  houp! 
houp! 

For  luncheon  I  went  over  to  the  Rolling  Stone 
Restaurant.  There  was  a  very  pretty  girl  there — an 
unusually  pretty  girl — or  perhaps  it  was  one  of  those 
days  on  which  every  girl  looked  unusually  pretty  to 
me.  There  are  such  days. 

Her  voice  was  exquisite  when  she  spoke.  She 
said: 

"We  have,  today,  corned  beef  hash,  fried  ham 

19  269 


Police!  !  t 


and  eggs,  liver  and  bacon — "  but  let  that  pass, 
too. 

I  took  my  tea  very  weak;  by  that  time  I  learned 
that  her  name  was  Mildred  Case;  that  she  had  been 
a  private  detective  employed  in  a  department  store, 
and  that  her  duties  had  been  to  nab  wealthy  ladies 
who  forgot  to  pay  for  objects  usually  discovered  in 
their  reticules,  bosoms,  and  sometimes  in  their  stock 
ings. 

But  the  confinement  of  indoor  work  had  been  too 
much  for  Mildred  Case,  and  the  only  out-door  job 
she  could  find  was  the  position  of  lady  waitress  in 
the  rustic  Rolling  Stone  Inn. 

She  was  very,  very  beautiful,  or  perhaps  it  was 
one  of  those  days — but  let  that  pass,  too. 

"You  are  the  great  Mr.  Percy  Smith,  Curator  of 
the  Anthropological  Department,  are  you  not  ?"  she 
asked  shyly. 

"Yes,"  I  said  modestly;  and,  to  slightly  rebuke 
any  superfluous  pride  in  me,  I  paraphrased  with  be 
coming  humility,  pointing  upward :  "but  remember, 
Mildred,  there  is  One  greater  than  I." 

"Mr.  Carnegie?"  she  nodded  innocently.  That 
was  true,  too.  I  let  it  go  at  that. 

270 


The  Eggs  of  the  Silver  Moon 

We  chatted :  she  mentioned  Professor  Boomly  and 
Dr.  Quint,  gently  deploring  the  rupture  of  their 
friendship.  Both  gentlemen,  in  common  with  the 
majority  of  the  administration  personnel,  were  daily 
customers  at  the  Rolling  Stone  Inn.  I  usually  took 
my  lunch  from  my  boarding-house  to  my  office,  be 
ing  too  busy  to  go  out  for  mere  nourishment. 

That  is  why  I  had  hitherto  missed  Mildred 
Case. 

"Mildred/'  I  said,  "I  do  not  believe  it  can  be 
wholesome  for  a  man  to  eat  sandwiches  while  tak 
ing  minute  measurements  of  defunct  monkeys. 
Also,  it  is  not  a  fragrant  pastime.  Hereafter  I  shall 
lunch  here." 

"It  will  be  a  pleasure  to  serve  you/'  said  that  un 
usually — there  I  go  again!  It  was  an  unusually 
beautiful  day  in  June.  Which  careful,  exact,  and 
scientific  statement,  I  think  ought  to  cover  the  sub 
ject  under  consideration. 

After  luncheon  I  sadly  selected  a  five-cent  cigar; 
and,  as  I  hesitated,  lingering  over  the  glass  case, 
undecided  still  whether  to  give  full  rein  to  this  con 
templated  extravagance,  I  looked  up  and  found  her 
beautiful  grey  eyes  gazing  into  mine. 

271 


Police!  !  ! 


"What  gentle  thoughts  are  yours,  Mildred?"  I 
said  softly. 

"The  cigar  you  have  selected,"  she  murmured, 
"is  fly-specked." 

Deeply  touched  that  this  young  girl  should  have 
cared — that  she  should  have  expressed  her  solicitude 
so  modestly,  so  sweetly,  concerning  the  maculatory 
condition  of  my  cigar,  I  thanked  her  and  purchased, 
for  the  same  sum,  a  packet  of  cigarettes. 

That  was  going  somewhat  far  for  me.  I  had 
never  in  all  my  life  even  dreamed  of  smoking  a  ci 
garette.  To  a  reserved,  thoughtful,  and  scientific 
mind  there  is,  about  a  packet  of  cigarettes,  some 
thing  undignified,  something  vaguely  frolicsome. 

When  I  paid  her  for  them  I  felt  as  though,  for 
the  first  time  in  my  life,  I  had  let  myself  go. 

Oddly  enough,  in  this  uneasy  feeling  of  gaiety  and 
abandon,  a  curious  sensation  of  exhilaration  per 
sisted. 

We  had  quite  a  merry  little  contretemps  when  I 
tried  to  light  my  cigarette  and  the  match  went  out, 
and  then  she  struck  another  match,  and  we  both 
laughed,  and  that  match  was  extinguished  by  her 
breath. 

272 


Which  way  do  you  usually  go  home? '  I  asked." 


Police!  !  ! 


Instantly  I  quoted :  "  'Her  breath  was  like  the 
new-mown  hay ' ' 

"Mr.  Smith !"  she  said,  flushing  slightly. 

"  'Her  eyes/  I  quoted,  'were  like  the  stars  at 
even!"' 

"You  don't  mean  my  eyes,  do  you?" 

I  took  a  puff  at  my  unlighted  cigarette.  It  also 
smelled  like  recently  mown  hay.  I  felt  that  I  was 
slipping  my  cables  and  heading  toward  an  unknown 
and  tempestuous  sea. 

"What  time  are  you  free,  Mildred?"  I  asked, 
scarcely  recognising  my  own  voice  in  such  reckless 
apropos. 

She  shyly  informed  me. 

I  struck  a  match,  re-lighted  my  cigarette,  and  took 
one  puff.  That  was  sufficient:  I  was  adrift.  I 
realised  it,  trembled  internally,  took  another  puff. 

"If,"  said  I  carelessly,  "on  your  way  home  you 
should  chance  to  stroll  along  the  path  beyond  the 
path  that  leads  to  the  path  which " 

I  paused,  checked  by  her  bewildered  eyes.  We 
both  blushed. 

"Which  way  do  you  usually  go  home?"  I  asked, 
my  ears  afire. 

274 


The  Eggs  of  the  Silver  Moon 

She  told  me.  It  was  a  suitably  unfrequented 
path. 

So  presently  I  strolled  thither;  and  seated  myself 
under  the  trees  in  a  bosky  dell. 

Now,  there  is  a  quality  in  boskiness  not  inappro 
priate  to  romantic  thoughts.  Boskiness,  ciga 
rettes,  a  soft  afternoon  in  June,  the  hum  of  bees, 
and  the  distant  barking  of  the  seals,  all  these  were 
delicately  blending  to  inspire  in  me  a  bashful  sen 
timent. 

A  specimen  of  Papilio  turnus,  di-morphic  form, 
Glaucus,  alighted  near  me ;  I  marked  its  flight  with 
scientific  indifference.  Yet  it  is  a  rare  species  in 
Bronx  Park. 

A  mock-orange  bush  was  in  snowy  bloom  behind 
me;  great  bunches  of  wistaria  hung  over  the  rock 
beside  me. 

The  combination  of  these  two  exquisite  per 
fumes  seemed  to  make  the  boskiness  more  bosky. 

There  was  an  unaccustomed  and  sportive  light 
ness  to  my  step  when  I  rose  to  meet  Mildred,  where 
she  came  loitering  along  the  shadow-dappled  path. 

She  seemed  surprised  to  see  me. 

She  thought  it  rather  late  to  sit  down,  but  she 

275 


Police!  !  ! 


seated  herself.  I  talked  to  her  enthusiastically 
about  anthropology.  She  was  so  interested  that 
after  a  while  she  could  scarcely  keep  still,  moving 
her  slim  little  feet  restlessly,  biting  her  pretty  lower 
lip,  shifting  her  position — all  certain  symptoms  of 
an  interest  in  science  which  even  approached  ex 
citement. 

Warmed  to  the  heart  by  her  eager  and  sym 
pathetic  interest  in  the  noble  science  so  precious,  so 
dear  to  me,  I  took  her  little  hand  to  soothe  and 
quiet  her,  realizing  that  she  might  become  overex 
cited  as  I  described  the  pituitary  body  and  why  its 
former  functions  had  become  atrophied  until  the 
gland  itself  was  nearly  obsolete. 

So  intense  her  interest  had  been  that  she  seemed 
a  little  tired.  I  decided  to  give  adequate  material 
support  to  her  spinal  process.  It  seemed  to  rest 
and  soothe  her.  I  don't  remember  that  she  said 
anything  except:  "Mr.  Smith!"  I  don't  recollect 
what  we  were  saying  when  she  mentioned  me  by 
name  rather  abruptly. 

The  afternoon  was  wonderfully  still  and  calm. 
The  month  was  June. 

After  a  while — quite  a  while — some  little  time  in 

276 


The  Eggs  of  the  Silver  Moon 

point  of  accurate  fact — she  detected  the  sound  of 
approaching  footsteps. 

I  remember  that  she  was  seated  at  the  opposite 
end  of  the  bench,  rather  feverishly  occupied  with 
her  hat  and  her  hair,  when  young  Jones  came 
hastily  along  the  path,  caught  sight  of  us,  halted, 
turned  violently  red — being  a  shy  young  man — but 
instead  of  taking  himself  off,  he  seemed  to  recover 
from  a  momentary  paralysis. 

"Mr.  Smith!"  he  said  sharply.  "Professor 
Boomly  has  disappeared ;  there's  a  pool  of  blood  on 
his  desk;  his  coat,  hat,  and  waistcoat  are  lying  on 
the  floor,  the  room  is  a  wreck,  and  Dr.  Quint  is  in 
there  tearing  up  the  carpet  and  behaving  like  a  mad 
man.  We  think  he  suddenly  went  insane  and  mur 
dered  Professor  Boomly.  What  is  to  be  done?" 

Horrified,  I  had  risen  at  his  first  word.  And 
now,  as  I  understood  the  full  purport  of  his  dread 
ful  message,  my  hair  stirred  under  my  hat  and  I 
gazed  at  him,  appalled. 

"What  is  to  be  done?"  he  demanded.  "Shall  I 
telephone  for  the  police?" 

"Do  you  actually  believe,"  I  faltered,  "that  this 
unfortunate  man  has  murdered  Boomly?" 

277 


Police!  !  ! 


"I  don't  know.  I  looked  over  the  transom,  but  I 
couldn't  see  Professor  Boomly.  Dr.  Quint  has 
locked  the  door." 

"And  he's  tearing  up  the  carpet?" 

"Like  a  lunatic.  I  didn't  want  to  call  in  the  po 
lice  until  I'd  asked  you.  Such  a  scandal  in  Bronx 
Park  would  be  a  frightful  thing  for  us  all — "  He 
hesitated,  looked  around,  coldly,  it  seemed  to  me,  at 
Mildred  Case.  "A  scandal,"  he  repeated,  "is 
scarcely  what  might  be  expected  among  a  har 
monious  and  earnest  band  of  seekers  after  scientific 
knowledge.  Is  it,  Mil — Miss  Case?" 

Now,  I  don't  know  why  Mildred  should  have 
blushed.  There  was  nothing  that  I  could  see  in  this 
young  man's  question  to  embarrass  her. 

Preoccupied,  still  confused  by  the  shock  of  this 
terrible  news,  I  looked  at  Jones  and  at  Mildred ;  and 
they  were  staring  rather  oddly  at  each  other. 

I  said :  "If  this  affair  turns  out  to  be  as  ghastly 
as  it  seems  to  promise,  we'll  have  to  call  in  a  de 
tective.  I'll  go  back  immediately " 

"Why  not  take  me,  also?"  asked  Mildred  Case, 
quietly. 

"What?"  I  asked,  looking  at  her. 

278 


The  Eggs  of  the  Silver  Moon 

"Why  not,  Mr.  Smith  ?  I  was  once  a  private  de 
tective." 

Surprised  at  the  suggestion,  I  hesitated. 

"If  you  desire  to  keep  this  matter  secret — if  you 
wish  to  have  it  first  investigated  privately  and 
quietly — would  it  not  be  a  good  idea  to  let  me  use 
my  professional  knowledge  before  you  call  in  the 
police?  Because  as  soon  as  the  police  are  sum 
moned  all  hope  of  avoiding  publicity  is  at  an  end." 

She  spoke  so  sensibly,  so  quietly,  so  modestly, 
that  her  offer  of  assistance  deeply  impressed  me. 

As  for  young  Jones,  he  looked  at  her  steadily  in 
that  odd,  chilling  manner,  which  finally  annoyed 
me.  There  was  no  need  of  his  being  snobbish  be 
cause  this  very  lovely  and  intelligent  young  girl  hap 
pened  to  be  a  waitress  at  the  Rolling  Stone  Inn. 

"Come,"  I  said  unsteadily,  again  a  prey  to  terri 
fying  emotions;  "let  us  go  to  the  Administration 
Building  and  learn  how  matters  stand.  If  this  af 
fair  is  as  terrible  as  I  fear  it  to  be,  science  has  re 
ceived  the  deadliest  blow  ever  dealt  it  since  Caglios- 
tro  perished." 

As  we  three  strode  hastily  along  the  path  in  the 
direction  of  the  Administration  Building,  I  took 

279 


Police!  !  ! 


that  opportunity  to  read  these  two  youthful  fellow 
beings  a  sermon  on  envy,  jealousy,  and  coveteous- 
ness. 

"See,"  said  I,  "to  what  a  miserable  condition  the 
desire  for  notoriety  and  fame  has  brought  two 
learned  and  enthusiastic  delvers  in  the  vineyard  of 
endeavor !  The  mad  desire  for  the  Carnegie  medal 
completely  turned  the  hitherto  perfectly  balanced 
brains  of  these  devoted  disciples  of  Science.  Envy 
begat  envy,  jealousy  begat  jealousy,  pride  begat 
pride,  hatred  begat  hatred " 

"It's  like  that  book  in  the  Bible  where  everybody 
begat  everybody  else,"  said  Mildred  seriously. 

At  first  I  thought  she  had  made  an  apt  and  clever 
remark;  but  on  thinking  it  over  I  couldn't  quite  see 
its  relevancy.  I  turned  and  looked  into  her  sweet 
face.  Her  eyes  were  dancing  with  brilliancy  and 
her  sensitive  lips  quivered.  I  feared  she  was  near 
to  tears  from  the  reaction  of  the  shock.  Had  Jones 
not  been  walking  with  us — but  let  that  go,  too. 

We  were  now  entering  the  Administration  Build 
ing,  almost  running;  and  as  soon  as  we  came  to  the 
closed  door  of  Dr.  Quint's  room,  I  could  hear  a 
commotion  inside — desk  drawers  being  pulled  out 

280 


The  Eggs  of  the  Silver  Moon 

and  their  contents  dumped,  curtains  being  jerked 
from  their  rings,  an  unmistakable  sound  indicating* 
the  ripping  up  of  a  carpet — and  through  all  this  din 
the  agitated  scuffle  of  footsteps. 

I  rapped  on  the  door.  No  notice  taken.  I  rapped 
and  knocked  and  called  in  a  low,  distinct  voice. 

Suddenly  I  recollected  I  had  a  general  pass-key 
on  my  ring  which  unlocked  any  door  in  the  build 
ing.  I  nodded  to  Jones  and  to  Mildred  to  stand 
aside,  then,  gently  fitting  the  key,  I  suddenly  pushed 
out  the  key  which  remained  on  the  inside,  turned 
the  lock,  and  flung  open  the  door. 

A  terrible  sight  presented  itself:  Dr.  Quint,  hair 
on  end,  both  mustaches  pulled  out,  shirt,  cuffs,  and 
white  waistcoat  smeared  with  blood,  knelt  amid  the 
general  wreckage  on  the  floor,  in  the  act  of  ripping 
up  the  carpet. 

"Doctor!"  I  cried  in  a  trembling  voice.  "What 
have  you  done  to  Professor  Boomly?" 

He  paused  in  his  carpet  ripping  and  looked 
around  at  us  with  a  terrifying  laugh. 

"I've  settled  him!"  he  said.  "If  you  don't  want 
to  get  all  over  dust  you'd  better  keep  out " 

"Quint!"  I  cried.    "Are  you  crazy?" 

281 


Police!  !  ! 


"Pretty  nearly.    Let  me  alone " 

"Where  is  Boomly!"  I  demanded  in  a  tragic 
voice.  "Where  is  your  old  friend,  Billy  Boomly? 
Where  is  he,  Quint?  And  what  does  that  mean — 
that  pool  of  blood  on  the  floor?  Whose  is  it?" 

"It's  Bill's,"  said  Quint,  coolly  ripping  up  an 
other  breadth  of  carpet  and  peering  under  it. 

"What!"  I  exclaimed.     "Do  you  admit  that?" 

"Certainly  I  admit  it.  I  told  him  I'd  terminate 
him  if  he  meddled  with  my  Silver  Moon  eggs." 

"You  mean  to  say  that  you  shed  blood — the 
blood  of  your  old  friend — merely  because  he  med 
dled  with  a  miserable  batch  of  butterfly's  eggs?"  I 
asked,  astounded. 

"I  certainly  did  shed  his  blood  for  just  that  par 
ticular  thing!  And  listen;  you're  in  my  way — 
you're  standing  on  a  part  of  the  carpet  which  I 
want  to  tear  up.  Do  you  mind  moving?" 

Such  cold-blooded  calmness  infuriated  me.  I 
sprang  at  Quint,  seized  him,  and  shouted  to  Jones 
to  tie  his  hands  behind  him  with  the  blood-soaked 
handkerchief  which  lay  on  the  floor. 

At  first,  while  Jones  and  I  were  engaged  in  the 
operation  of  securing  the  wretched  man,  Quint 

282 


The  Eggs  of  the  Silver  Moon 

looked  at  us  both  as  though  surprised;  then  he 
grew  angry  and  asked  us  what  the  devil  we  were 
about. 

"Those  who  shed  blood  must  answer  for  it!"  I 
said  solemnly. 

"What?  What's  the  matter  with  you?"  he  de 
manded  in  a  rage.  "Shed  blood?  What  if  I  did? 
What's  that  to  you?  Untie  this  handkerchief,  you 
unmentionable  idiot!" 

I  looked  at  Jones: 

"His  mind  totters,"  I  said  hoarsely. 

"What's  that!"  cried  Quint,  struggling  to  get  off 
the  chair  whither  I  had  pushed  him :  but  with  my 
handkerchief  we  tied  his  ankles  to  the  rung  of  the 
chair,  heedless  of  his  attempts  to  kick  us,  and 
sprang  back  out  of  range. 

"Now,"  I  said,  "what  have  you  done  with  the 
poor  victim  of  your  fury?  Where  is  he?  Where 
is  all  that  remains  of  Professor  Boomly?" 

"Boomly  ?  I  don't  know  where  he  is.  How  the 
devil  should  I  know?" 

"Don't  lie,"  I  said  solemnly. 

"Lie!  See  here,  Smith,  when  I  get  out  of  this 
chair  I'll  settle  you,  too " 

283 


Police!  !  ! 


"Quint!  There  is  another  and  more  terrible 
chair  which  awaits  such  criminals  as  you!" 

"You  old  fluff!"  he  shouted.  "I'll  knock  your 
head  off,  too.  Do  you  understand?  I'll  attend  to 
you  as  I  attended  to  Boomly " 

"Assassin !"  I  retorted  calmly.  "Only  an  alienist 
can  save  you  now.  In  this  awful  moment " 

A  light  touch  on  my  arm  interrupted  me,  and,  a 
trifle  irritated,  as  any  man  might  be  when  .checked 
in  the  full  flow  of  eloquence,  I  turned  to  find  Mil 
dred  at  my  elbow. 

"Let  me  talk  to  him,"  she  said  in  a  quiet  voice. 
"Perhaps  I  may  not  irritate  him  as  you  seem  to." 

"Very  well,"  I  said.  "Jones  and  I  are  here  as 
witnesses."  And  I  folded  my  arms  in  an  attitude 
not,  perhaps,  unpicturesque. 

"Dr.  Quint,"  said  Mildred  in  her  soft,  agreeable 
voice,  and  actually  smiling  slightly  at  the  self-con 
fessed  murderer,  "is  it  really  true  that  you  are  guilty 
of  shedding  the  blood  of  Professor  Boomly?" 

"It  is,"  said  Quint,  coolly. 

She  seemed  rather  taken  aback  at  that,  but  pres 
ently  recovered  her  equanimity. 

"Why?"  she  asked  gently. 

284 


The  Eggs  of  the  Silver  Moon 

"Because  he  attempted  a  most  hellish  crime!" 
yelled  Quint. 

"W-what  crime?"  she  asked  faintly. 

"I'll  tell  you.  He  wanted  the  Carnegie  medal, 
and  he  knew  it  would  be  given  to  me  if  I  could  in 
cubate  and  hatch  my  batch  of  Silver  Moon  butter 
fly  eggs.  He  realised  well  enough  that  his  Heli 
conian  eggs  were  not  as  valuable  as  my  Silver  Moon 
eggs.  So  first  he  sneaked  in  here  and  put  an 
ichneumon  fly  in  my  breeding-cage.  And  next  he 
stole  the  Silver  Moon  eggs  and  left  in  their  place 
some  common  Plexippus  eggs,  thinking  that  be 
cause  they  were  very  similar  I  would  not  notice  the 
substitution. 

"I  did  notice  it!  I  charged  him  with  that  cata 
clysmic  outrage.  He  laughed.  We  came  into  per 
sonal  collision.  He  chased  me  into  my  room." 

Panting,  breathless  with  rage  at  the  memory  of 
the  morning's  defeat  which  I  had  witnessed,  Quint 
glared  at  me  for  a  moment.  Then  he  jerked  his 
head  toward  Mildred: 

"As  soon  as  he  went  to  luncheon — Boomly,  I 
mean — I  climbed  over  that  transom  and  dropped 
into  this  room.  I  had  been  hunting  for  ten  min- 

20  285 


Police!  !  ! 


utes  before  I  found  my  Silver  Moon  eggs  hidden 
under  the  carpet.  So  I  pocketed  them,  climbed 
back  over  the  transom,  and  went  to  my  room." 

He  paused  dramatically,  staring  from  one  to  an 
other  of  us: 

"Boomly  was  there!"  he  said  slowly. 

"Where?"  asked  Mildred  with  a  shudder. 

"In  my  room.  He  had  picked  the  lock.  I  told 
him  to  get  out!  He  went.  I  shouted  after  him 
that  I  had  recovered  the  Silver  Moon  eggs  and  that 
I  should  certainly  be  awarded  the  Carnegie  medal. 

"Then  that  monster  in  human  form  laughed  a 
horrible  laugh,  avowing  himself  guilty  of  a  crime 
still  more  hideous  than  the  theft  of  the  Silver  Moon 
eggs !  Do  you  know  what  he  had  done  ?" 

"W-what?"  faltered  Mildred. 

"He  had  stolen  from  cold  storage  and  had  con 
cealed  the  leaves  of  the  Bimba  bush,  brought  from 
Singapore  to  feed  the  Silver  Moon  caterpillars! 
That's  what  Boomly  had  done ! 

"And  my  Silver  Moon  eggs  had  already  begun 
to  hatch!!!  'And  my  caterpillars  would  starve!!!!" 

His  voice  ended  in  a  yell;  he  struggled  on  his 
chair  until  it  nearly  upset. 

286 


The  Eggs  of  the  Silver  Moon 

"You  lunatic!"  I  shouted.  "Was  that  a  reason 
for  spilling  the  blood  of  a  human  being!" 

"It  was  reason  enough  for  me!" 

"Madman!" 

"Let  me  loose!  He's  hidden  those  leaves  some 
where  or  other !  I've  torn  this  place  to  pieces  look 
ing  for  them.  I've  got  to  find  them,  I  tell  you " 

Mildred  went  to  the  infuriated  entomologist  and 
laid  a  firm  hand  on  his  shoulder : 

"Listen,"  she  said :  "how  do  you  know  that  Pro 
fessor  Boomly  has  not  concealed  these  Bimba 
leaves  on  his  own  person?" 

Quint  ceased  his  contortions  and  gaped  at  her. 

"I  never  thought  of  that,"  he  said. 

"What  have  you  done  with  him?"  she  asked, 
very  pale. 

"I  tell  you,  I  don't  know." 

"You  must  know  what  you  did  with  him,"  she 
insisted. 

Quint  shook  his  head  impatiently,  apparently  pre 
occupied  with  other  thoughts.  We  stood  watching 
him  in  silence  until  he  looked  up  and  became  con 
scious  of  our  concentrated  gaze. 

"My  caterpillars  are   starving,"  he  began  vio- 

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Police!  !  ! 


lently.  "I  haven't  anything  else  they'll  eat.  They 
feed  only  on  the  Bimba  leaf.  They  wont  eat  any 
thing  else.  It's  a  well-known  fact  that  they  won't. 
Why,  in  Johore,  where  they  came  from,  they'll 
travel  miles  over  the  ground  to  find  a  Bimba 
bush " 

"What!"  exclaimed  Mildred. 

"Certainly — miles!  They'd  starve  sooner  than 
eat  anything  except  Bimba  leaves.  If  there's  a 
bush  within  twenty  miles  they'll  find  it " 

"Wait,"  said  Mildred  quietly.  "Where  are  these 
starving  caterpillars?" 

"In  a  glass  jar  in  my  pocket — here!  What  the 
devil  are  you  doing!"  For  the  girl  had  dexterously 
slipped  the  glass  jar  from  his  coat  pocket  and  was 
holding  it  up  to  the  light. 

Inside  it  were  several  dozen  tiny,  dark  caterpil 
lars,  some  resting  disconsolately  on  the  sides  of  the 
glass,  some  hungrily  travelling  over  the  bottom  in 
pitiful  and  hopeless  quest  of  nourishment. 

Heedless  of  the  shouts  and  threats  of  Dr.  Quint, 
the  girl  calmly  uncorked  the  jar,  took  on  her 
slender  forefinger  a  single  little  caterpillar,  re 
placed  the  cork,  and,  kneeling  down,  gently  disen- 

288 


The  Eggs  of  the  Silver  Moon 

gaged  the  caterpillar.  It  dropped  upon  the  floor, 
remained  motionless  for  a  moment,  then,  turning, 
began  to  travel  rapidly  toward  the  doorway  behind 
us. 

"Now,"  she  said,  "if  poor  Professor  Boomly 
really  has  concealed  these  Bimba  leaves  upon  his 
own  person,  this  little  caterpillar,  according  to  Dr. 
Quint,  is  certain  to  find  those  leaves." 

Overcome  with  excitement  and  admiration  for 
this  intelligent  and  unusually  beautiful  girl,  I 
seized  her  hands  and  congratulated  her. 

"Murder,"  said  I  to  the  miserable  Quint,  "will 
out!  This  infant  caterpillar  shall  lead  us  to  that 
dark  and  secret  spot  where  you  had  hoped  to  con 
ceal  the  horrid  evidence  of  your  guilt.  Three 
things  have  undone  you — a  caterpillar  replete  with 
mysterious  instinct,  a  humble  bunch  of  Bimba 
leaves,  and  the  marvellous  intelligence  of  this 
young  and  lovely  girl.  Madman,  your  hour  has 
struck!" 

He  looked  at  me  in  a  dazed  sort  of  way,  as 
though  astonishment  had  left  him  unable  to  articu 
late.  But  I  had  become  tired  of  his  violence  and 
his  shouts  and  yells ;  so  I  asked  Jones  for  his  hand- 

289 


Police/// 


kerchief,  and,  before  Quint  knew  what  I  was  up  to 
I  had  tied  it  over  his  mouth. 

He  became  a  brilliant  purple,  but  all  he  could 
utter  was  a  furious  humming,  buzzing  noise. 

Meanwhile,  Jones  had  opened  the  door ;  the  little 
caterpillar,  followed  by  Mildred  and  myself,  con 
tinued  to  hustle  along  as  though  he  knew  quite  well 
where  he  was  going. 

Down  the  hallway  he  went  in  undulating  haste, 
past  my  door,  we  all  following  in  silent  excitement 
as  we  discovered  that,  parallel  to  the  caterpillar's 
course,  ran  a  gruesome  trail  of  blood  drops. 

And  when  the  little  creature  turned  and  made 
straight  for  the  door  of  Professor  Farrago,  our 
revered  chief,  the  excitement  among  us  was  ter 
rific. 

The  caterpillar  halted ;  I  gently  tried  the  door ;  it 
was  open. 

Instantly  the  caterpillar  crossed  the  threshold, 
wriggling  forward  at  top  speed.  We  followed, 
peering  fearfully  around  us.  Nobody  was  visible. 

Could  Quint  have  dragged  his  victim  here?  By 
Heaven,  he  had !  For  the,  caterpillar  was  travelling 
straight  under  the  lounge  upon  which  Professor 

290 


'This  litilr  i  .iiripiii.ii   .  ;, ,  .ipYqtM.i.n  i«-  JJd  iNjsp  I«-.I\TS.'" 


The  Eggs  of  the  Silver  Moon 

Farrago  was  accustomed  to  repose  after  luncheon, 
and,  dropping  on  one  knee,  I  saw  a  fat  foot  partly 
protruding  from  under  the  shirred  edges  of  the 
fringed  drapery. 

"He's  there!"  I  whispered,  in  an  awed  voice  to 
the  others. 

"Courage,  Miss  Case!    Try  not  to  faint." 

Jones  turned  and  looked  at  her  with  that  same 
odd  expression;  then  he  went  over  to  where  she 
stood  and  coolly  passed  one  arm  around  her  waist. 

"Try  not  to  faint,  Mildred,"  he  said.  "It  might 
muss  your  hair." 

It  was  a  strange  thing  to  say,  but  I  had  no 
time  then  to  analyze  it,  for  I  had  seized  the 
fat  foot  which  partly  protruded  from  under  the 
sofa,  clad  in  a  low-cut  congress  gaiter  and  a  white 
sock. 

And  then  /  nearly  fainted,  for  instead  of  the 
dreadful,  inert  resistance  of  lifeless  clay,  the  foot 
wriggled  and  tried  to  kick  at  me. 

"Help !"  came  a  thin  but  muffled  voice.  "Help ! 
Help,  in  the  name  of  Heaven !" 

"Boomly !"  I  cried,  scarcely  believing  my  ears. 

"Take    that    man    away,    Smith!"    whimpered 

291 


Police!  !  ! 


Boomly.  "He's  a  devil!  He'll  murder  me!  He 
made  my  nose  bleed  all  over  everything!" 

"Boomly !    You're  not  dead !" 

"Yes,  I  am!"  he  whined.  "I'm  dead  enough  to 
suit  me.  Keep  that  little  lunatic  off — that's  all  I 
ask.  He  can  have  his  Carnegie  medal  for  all  I 
care,  only  tie  him  up  somewhere " 

"Professor  Boomly!"  cried  Mildred  excitedly. 
"Have  you  any  Bimba  leaves  concealed  about  your 
person  ?" 

"Yes,  I  have,"  he  said  sulkily.  There  came  a 
hitch  of  the  fat  foot,  a  heavy  scuffling  sound,  heavy 
panting,  and  then,  skittering  out  across  the  floor 
came  a  flat,  sealed  parcel. 

"There  you  are/'  he  said;  "now,  let  me  alone 
until  that  fiend  has  gone  home." 

"He  won't  attack  you  again,"  I  said.  "Come 
out/' 

But  Professor  Boomly  flatly  declined  to  stir. 

I  looked  at  the  parcel :  it  was  marked :  "Bimba 
leaves ;  Johore." 

With  a  sigh  of  unutterable  relief,  I  picked  up  the 
ravenous  little  caterpillar,  placed  him  on  the  packet, 
and  turned  to  go.  And  didn't. 

292 


The  Eggs  of  the  Silver  Moon 

It  is  a  very  sickening  fact  I  have  now  to  record. 
But  to  a  scientist  all  facts  are  sacred,  sickening  or 
otherwise. 

For  what  I  caught  a  glimpse  of,  just  outside  the 
door  in  the  hallway,  was  Jones  kissing  Mildred 
Case.  And  being  shyly  indemnified  for  his  trouble 
with  a  gentle  return  in  kind.  Both  his  arms  were 
around  her  waist;  both  her  hands  rested  upon  his 
shoulders ;  and,  as  I  looked — but  let  it  pass ! — let  it 
pass. 

Deliberately  I  fished  in  my  pocket,  found  my 
packet  of  cigarettes,  lighted  one. 

Tobacco  diffugiunt  mordaces  curae  et  laetificat 
cor  hominis! 

(i) 


